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FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OF 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,  D.  D, 

BEQUEATHED   BY   HIM   TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON   THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


DMsioa 


Section  /  (////// 


THE    LIBRARY 
OF    DEVOTION 


t 


THE   CHRISTIAN  YEAR 


THE 

CHRISTIAN 

YEAR 

BY»/i/ 

JOHN    KEBLE 


WITH  NOTES 
AND  INTRO- 
DUCTION   BY 

WALTER  LOCK 

D.D. 

WARDEN    OF 
KEBLE    COLLEGE 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK      A. 
STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction        .....  ix 

Appendix  I.  xxvii 

Appendix  II.             ...             .  xxviii 

Note            .....  xxxiv 


Advertisement    .... 
Morning  .... 

Evening  .... 

Advent  Sunday  .... 
Second  Sunday"  in  Advent.     The   Signs  of  the 

Times  .... 

Third  Sunday  in  Advent.     The  travellers 
Fourth  Sunday  in  Advent.     Dimness     . 
Christmas  Day  .... 
S.  Stephen's  Day 

S.  John's  Day     .... 
The  Holy  Innocents 
First  Sunday  after  Christmas.     The  Sun  Dial  of 

Ahaz  .... 

The  Circumcision 
Second  Sunday  after  Christmas.     The  Pilgrim' 

Song  .... 

The  Epiphany    .... 
First  Sunday  after  Epiphany.     The  Nightingale 
Second  Sunday  after  Epiphany.     The  Secret  of 

perpetual  Youth 
Third    Sunday   after    Epiphany.       The    Good 

Centurion    .... 
Fourth  Sunday  after  Epiphany.     The  World  is 

for  Excitement,  the  Gospel  for  Soothing 
Fifth  Sunday  after  Epiphany.       Cure  Sin  and 

you  cure  Sorrow 
Sixth  Sunday  after  Epiphany.     The  Benefits  of 

Uncertainty 
Septuagesima  Sunday     . 


VI 


CONTENTS 


Sexagesima  Sunday 
Quinquagesima  Sunday 
Ash- Wednesday 
First  Sunday  in  Lent. 
Second  Sunday  in  Lent. 
Third  Sunday  in  Lent. 
Fourth  Sunday  in  Lent, 
Fifth  Sunday  in  Lent. 


The  City  of  Refuge 
Esau's  Forfeit 

The  Spoils  of  Satan 

The  Rosebud 
The  Burning  Bush 


Christ   refusing   the 

Christ  in  the  Garden 
The  Vision  of  the 


S.    Peter     and 


Palm  Sunday.     The  Children  in  the  Temple 
Monday  before  Easter.     Christ  waiting  for  the 

Cross  . 

Tuesday   before   Easter. 

Wine  and  Myrrh  . 
Wednesday  before  Easter. 
Thursday  before  Easter. 

Latter  Days 
Good  Friday 
Easter  Eve 
Easter  Day 
Monday     in    Easter     Week 

Cornelius     .... 
Tuesday  in  Easter  Week.     The  Snowdrop 
First  Sunday  after  Easter.     The  restless  Pastor 

reproved  .... 
Second  Sunday  after  Easter.  Balaam  . 
Third    Sunday    after    Easter.      Languor    and 

Travail 
Fourth  Sunday  after  Easter.     The  Dove  on  the 

Cross 
Fifth  Sunday  after  Easter.     The  Priest's  Inter 

cessor  .... 

Ascension  Day  .... 
Sunday  after  Ascension  Day.     Seed-time 
Whitsunday 
Monday  in  Whitsun-week. 

fusion 
Tuesday  in  Whitsun-week. 
Trinity  Sunday 
First  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

Ruins  of  Canaan  . 
Second  Sunday  after  Trinity 

of  Faith      . 


The  City  of  Con 
Holy  Orders 


Israel 


among 


the 


Charity  the  Life 


PAGE 

64 

67 
69 

7* 
74 
77 
80 

83 
87 

89 

92 
94 


103 
106 


109 


114 
116 

119 

121 

125 
128 
130 
'33 

135 
138 
141 

144 

146 


CONTENTS  vii 


PAGE 


Third  Sunday  after  Trinity.    Comfort  for  Sinners 

in  the  presence  of  the  Good  .  .        149 

Fourth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     The  Groans  of 

Nature        .  .  .  .  .152 

Fifth   Sunday  after  Trinity.      The   Fishermen 

ofBethsaida  .  .  .  .156 

Sixth  Sunday  after  Trinity.  The  Psalmist  re- 
penting      .  .  .  .  1 59 

Seventh  Sunday  after   Trinity.     The  Feast  in 

the  Wilderness         .  .  .  .161 

Eighth  Sunday  after  Trinity.    The  Disobedient 

Prophet       .  .  .  .  .165 

Ninth     Sunday     after     Trinity.        Elijah     in 

Horeb  .  .  .  .  .167 

Tenth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     Christ  weeping 

over  Jerusalem         .  .  .  .170 

Eleventh  Sunday  after  Trinity  Gehazi  re- 
proved        .  .  .  .  .172 

Twelfth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     The  Deaf  and 

Dumb  .....        175 

Thirteenth   Sunday  after  Trinity.     Moses   on 

the  Mount  .  .  .  .177 

Fourteenth   Sunday    after   Trinity.     The   Ten 

Lepers  .  .  .  .181 

Fifteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     The  Flowers 

of  the  Field  .  .  .  .183 

Sixteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity.    Hope  is  better 

than  Eaue   .  .  .  .  .185 

Seventeenth   Sunday  after  Trinity.      Ezekiel's 

Vision  in  the  Temple  .  .  .188 

Eighteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity.    The  Church 

in  the  Wilderness   .  .  .  .191 

Nineteenth   Sunday  after  Trinity.      Shadrach, 

Meshach,  and  Abednego    .  .  .195 

Twentieth   Sunday   after  Trinity.     Mountain 

Scenery       .  .  .  .  .198 

Twenty-first  Sunday  after  Trinity.  The  Red- 
breast in  September  .  .  .       200 

Twenty-second  Sunday  after  Trinity.    The  Rule 

of  Christian  Forgiveness    .  .  .       203 

Twenty-third    Sunday   after    Trinity.      Forest 

Leaves  in  Autumn  .  .  .  .205 


Vlll 


CONTENTS 


Twenty-fourth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     Imperfec 

tion  of  Human  Sympathy   . 
Twenty-fifth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     The  Two 

Rainbows  .... 
Sunday  next  before  Advent.     Self-Examination 

before  Advent 
S.  Andrew's  Day 
S.  Thomas  the  Apostle 
Conversion  of  S.  Paul     . 
Purification  of  S.  Mary  the  Virgin 
S.  Matthias'  Day 

Annunciation  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary 
S.  Mark's  Day  .... 
S.  Philip  and  S.  James's  Day 
S.  Barnabas  the  Apostle 
S.  John  Baptist's  Day     . 
S.  Peter's  Day    .... 
S.  James  the  Apostle 
S.  Bartholomew  the  Apostle 
S.  Matthew  the  Apostle 
S.  Michael  and  all  Angels 
S.  Luke  the  Evangelist  . 
S.  Simon  and  S.  Jude,  Apostles 
All  Saints'  Day  .... 
Holy  Communion 

Holy  Baptism    .... 
Catechism  .... 

Confirmation      .... 
Matrimony         .... 
Visitation  and  Communion  of  the  Sick 
Burial  of  the  Dead 
Churching  of  Women    . 
Commination      .... 
Forms  of  Prayer  to  be  used  at  Sea 
Gunpowder  Treason 
King  Charles  the  Martyr 
The  Restoration  of  the  Royal  Family    . 
The  Accession  .... 
Ordination  .... 

Index     ..... 


INTRODUCTION 

THERE  is  scant  need  of  a  fresh  Introduction 
1  to  "  The  Christian  Year  "  :  the  author  has 
himself  told  us  that  his  aim  is  to  produce  a  sober 
standard  of  feeling  in  religious  matters,  and  that 
his  method  is  to  do  this  by  bringing  into  relief 
the  soothing  tendency  of  the  Prayer  Book. 
Sobriety  and  soothing  power — these  are  its 
chief  notes.  Dr  Barry  has  expanded  these 
notes  well  in  an  essay  in  which  he  shows 
how  the  quietness  of  its  tone,  and  the  constant 
sense  of  the  Presence  of  God  in  Nature,  in 
Humanity,  and  in  the  Church,  fits  it  to  be  a 
true  "  Companion  of  the  Devout  Life." * 
From  a  point  of  view  at  once  literary  and 
spiritual,  Principal  Shairp2  has  drawn  out  its 
deep  and  tender  religious  feeling,  centring  in 
a  devout  reverence  for  the  Person  of  our  Lord 
and  in  a  close  personal  love  to  Him  as  a  living 
friend  ;  its  consecration  of  home  and  family  life  ; 
the  delicate  reserve  with  which  it  hints  at,  rather 
than  blurts  out,  the  deepest  feelings ;  and  the 
combination  of  the  artist's  touch  which  depicts 
Nature  with  the  spiritual  vision  that  penetrates 

1  "  Companions  of  the  Devout  Life,"  Second  Series, 
1876.     Lecture  iv. 

2  J.  C.  Shairp,  "  Studies  in  Poetry  and  Philosophy." 
"  John  Keble." 

ix 


x  INTRODUCTION 

her  secrets.  Finally,  the  present  writer  has 
elsewhere  tried  to  show1  that  the  author's 
dominant  passion  is  the  faith  in  innocence,  the 
belief  that  Nature  and  man  can  alike  make 
response  to  God  for  His  gifts ;  that  the  Church 
can  be  true  to  its  ideal ;  this  faith  ever  under- 
lies his  constant  protest  against  the  sin  which 
mars  the  ideal,  and  prevents  the  protest  from 
sinking  into  despair. 

Yet  it  may  be  that  a  fresh  treatment  is 
desirable :  for  the  book  is  probably  not  quite 
so  popular  as  it  has  been.  Why  is  this  ? 
There  are  some  reasons  which  are  accidental 
and  temporary:  thus,  Miss  Yonge  once  said 
that  she  thought  that  it  was  due — partly  to  the 
fact  that  Sunday  is  so  much  less  strictly  observed 
than  it  used  to  be,  so  that  religious  people  do 
not  allow  themselves  the  leisure  necessary  for 
reading  it — partly  to  the  change  of  the  Lec- 
tionary  which  has  in  some  cases  destroyed  the 
correspondence  between  the  Poem  and  the  Sunday 
services.  But  it  is  well  to  remember  that  many 
of  the  poems  were  written  independently  of  any 
particular  Sunday  :  "  being  in  many  parts  rather 
adapted  with  more  or  less  propriety  to  the 
successive  portions  of  the  Liturgy  than  suggested 
by  them.,,  2  The  book,  then,  can  stand  on  its 
own  merits,  independently  of  such  associations, 
and  we  shall  try  to  see,  later,  the  interest  which 
attaches  to  the  study  of  the  Poems  in  chronological 
order,  without  reference  to  their  framework. 

But  there  are  also  reasons  resting  upon  the 

1  W.  Lock,  "  John  Keble  :  a  Biography,"  chap.  iii. 

2  The  Advertisement  (p.  xxxv). 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

book  itself:  in  the  first  place  it  is  felt  to  be 
obscure.  The  charge  is  true,  but  to  a  much 
more  limited  extent  than  is  thought.  The 
majority  of  the  poems,  especially  of  the  earlier 
poems,  are  perfectly  clear.  Is  the  Jordan  itself 
as  it  bursts  from  the  lime-stone  rocks  that  over- 
hang Banias  more  lucid  than  the  poems  for  the 
Purification,  S.  John's  Day,  Whitsunday,  Palm 
Sunday,  or  the  Wednesday  before  Easter? 
The  obscurity,  where  it  is  to  be  found,  is 
sometimes  due  to  a  mystical  treatment  of  Holy 
Scripture,  which  is  not  so  familiar  to  us  as  it 
used  to  be :  more  often  it  is  due  to  the  quick- 
darting  thought  of  the  writer,  passing  from  one 
subject  to  another  by  a  train  of  feeling  rather 
than  of  logic.  One  who  heard  his  conversation 
in  early  life  said  that  "  to  attempt  to  write 
down  what  he  said  would  be  as  difficult  as  for 
a  painter  to  draw  his  picture."  There  is  some- 
thing analogous  to  this  in  the  poems,  and  an 
attempt  is  made  in  the  present  edition  to  meet 
the  difficulty.  A  short  analysis  of  the  thought 
is  prefixed  to  each  poem :  and  a  few  notes  are 
added  explaining  the  rarer  words  and  the  more 
difficult  lines,  showing  the  various  influences 
which  have  moulded  the  diction,  and  illustrating 
the  thought  from  other  portions  of  Mr  Keble's 
own  writings. 

Again,  it  is  sometimes  felt  that  the  book  is 
not  quite  adapted  to  the  religious  tone  of  the 
present  day,  that  it  is  somewhat  tame,  somewhat 
ecclesiastically  narrow,  that  it  wants  intensity, 
breadth,  stimulus.  Such  a  charge  is  even  less 
true  than  the  former ;  the  tone  is  indeed  that  of 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

self-discipline,    of    control,    of    resignation,    of 
content : 

Its  still  small  voice  is  often  heard 
Whispering  a  mingled  sentiment 
'Tvvixt  resignation  and  content. 

But  it  is  the  resignation  of  a  very  sensitive 
soul,  which  has  felt  at  once  the  brightness  of 
life  and  its  sorrow,  and  which  in  both  has 
stayed  itself  upon  the  power  of  God.  There  is 
calm,  but  it  is  the  calm  not  of  a  stagnant  pond 
but  of  a  mountain  stream  which  has  started  as 
a  bright  flashing  waterfall  amid  the  trees,  has 
forced  its  course  over  a  rocky  bed,  and  is  just 
emerging,  broad,  calm,  and  clear,  into  the 
channel  in  the  valley. 

In  reading  the  book  once  more  with  a  view 
to  this  edition,  I  have  been  much  struck  with 
three  points  which  justify  a  belief  in  its  per- 
manent value,  and  which  may  help  those  who 
wish  to  gain  devotional  aid  from  its  use. 

( I )  The  most  striking  feature  is  its  width  of 
sympathy,  its  sense  of  the  consecration  of  all 
life.  In  Dean  Stanley's  words,  "  It  has  a  real 
openness  of  mind  for  the  whole  large  view  o£ 
the  Church  and  the  world." 1  The  mere 
diction  of  the  poems  will  illustrate  this :  not 
only  have  all  the  parts  of  the  Bible  (Old  Testa- 
ment, New  Testament,  and  Apocrypha)  as  well 
as  the  Fathers  and  the  Prayer  Book  contributed 
to  mould  it,  but  (as  the  notes  to  the  present 
edition     will    show)     Homer,     iEschylus,     the 

1  From  a  letter  to  Principal  Shairp,  quoted  in 
11  Principal  Shairp  and  his  Friends,"  by  W.  Knight, 
p.  26. 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

Greek  Anthology,  as  well  as  Pascal,  Bishop 
Butler,  Spenser,  George  Herbert,  Milton, 
Waller,  Gray,  Cowper,  Burns,  Rogers,  and, 
above  all,  Scott  and  Wordsworth,  have  enriched 
it  with  phrase  or  imagery.  One  poem  espe- 
cially of  Wordsworth's,  the  Ode  "  On  the 
intimations  of  Immortality  from  Recollections  of 
Early  Childhood, "  seems  to  me  to  have  left  its 
mark  on  at  least  five  poems,  on  those  for  the 
Holy  Innocents'  Day,  the  Epiphany,  the  Seventh 
and  Twenty-second  Sundays  after  Trinity,  and 
S.  Philip  and  S.  James. 

But  the  diction  is  a  mere  symbol  of  the  large- 
hearted  sympathy  which  includes  all  creation 
within  its  embrace,  and  sees  the  consecration  of 
God's  Presence  on  every  side.  The  whole  of 
the  material  world  is  "a  book,  to  show  how 
God  Himself  is  found";  it  is  the  means  by 
which  lawless  and  perplexed  souls  are  "  tuned  to 
hymns  of  perfect  love."  It  has  this  power  by 
creation,  but  redemption  has  given  it  a  fresh  glow: 

Thenceforth  to  eyes  of  high  desire 

The  meanest  things  below, 
As  with  a  seraph's  robe  of  fire 

Invested,  burn  and  glow. 

Not  only  the  mountain  and  the  sea  have  their 
voices,  but  cheap  forms  and  common  hues  in  the 
snowdrop,  the  rosebud,  the  willow,  the  red- 
breast, the  nightingale,  can  speak  of  God,  can 
witness  to  His  Love,  and  preach  contentment's 
power.1 

1  Compare  especially  Septuagesima  Sunday,  Easter 
Day,  Whitsunday,  the  First  Sunday  after  Epiphany, 
the  Second  and  Fourth  Sundays  after  Trinity. 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

So,  within  the  world  of  humanity,  every 
human  life  has  its  value  to  the  Christian  : 

Even  so,  who  loves  the  Lord  aright, 
No  soul  of  man  can  worthless  find  ; 

All  will  be  precious  in  his  sight, 
Since  Christ  on  all  hath  shined.1 

And  every  part  of  life  is  sacred.  Not  only 
is  this  true  of  the  innocent  brightness  of  the 
infant's  face,  in  which  God's  Presence  is  nigher 
to  us  than  even  in  the  twilight  stars  or  the  moist 
flowers  at  even,  and  of  the  calm  old  age  of  those 
who  are  waiting  their  summons  to  the  sky ;  but 
even  the  dull  weary  task  of  middle  life,  when 
the  brightness  of  youth  is  gone  and  the  repose  of 
old  age  has  not  come,  is  consecrated  by  the 
memory  of  Christ's  ministry.2 

So  again  while  he  is  essentially  the  poet  of 
home  and  of  married  life,  telling  how 

Sweet  is  the  smile  of  home  ;  the  mutual  look 

When  hearts  are  of  each  other  sure ; 
Sweet  all  the  joys  that  crowd  the  household  nook, 

The  haunt  of  all  affections  pure  ; 

how  the  love  of  mother  and  son  has  been 
specially  consecrated  by  Christ's  example,  and 
what  is  the  secret  of  true  brotherhood  and  true 
comradeship  ; 3  yet  perhaps  the  richest  and  most 

1  Second  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

2  Holy  Innocents'  Day,  Twenty-fifth  Sunday  after 
Trinity,  Holy  Baptism,  Catechism  (child  life):  S. 
Philip  and  S.  James  (middle  age):  All  Saints'  Day 
(old  age.) 

8  Sexagesima  Sunday,  First  Sunday  in  Lent,  Wed- 
nesday before  Easter,  Matrimony,  (husband  and  wife) : 
The  Annunciation  (mother  and  son):  Trinity  Sunday, 
S.  Andrew's  Day,  (brothers) :  S.  Simon  and  S.  Jude 
(friends). 


INTRODUCTION  xv 

melodious  of  all  his  poems,  that  for  S.  Matthew's 
Day,  is  devoted  to  those  hermits  blest  and  holy 
maids, 

The  nearest  Heaven  on  earth, 

Who  talk  with  God  in  shadowy  glades 

Free  from  rude  care  and  mirth. 

While  he  sings  mainly  of  the  joy  of  country 
life,  yet  that  same  poem  shows  that  Christ's 
presence  can  be  found  within  city  and  com- 
mercial life : 

There  are  in  this  loud  stunning  tide 

Of  human  care  and  crime, 
With  whom  the  melodies  abide 

Of  the  everlasting  chime  ; 
Who  carry  music  in  their  heart 
Through  dusky  lane  and  wrangling  mart, 
Plying  their  daily  task  with  busier  feet, 
Because  their  secret  souls  a  holy  strain  repeat. 

There  is  no  touch  of  Puritan  otherworldliness 
here :  "  brightest  art "  as  well  as  "  sweetest 
nature "  offers  its  votive  incense  to  God : 
architecture  and  music  are  drawn  into  the 
Church's  service :    to  poetry  it  is  given 

God's  own  work  to  do  on  earth, 
(If  the  word  be  not  too  bold), 

Giving  virtue  a  new  birth, 

And  a  life  that  ne'er  grows  old. 

History  is  the  record  of  "  God  teaching  love 
and  fear";  and  thus  all  classical  poetry  wit- 
nesses to  a  truth  beyond  itself:  for  "  thoughts 
beyond  their  thought  to  those  high  Bards  were 
given."  The  history  of  Pagan  religions  and  of 
Judaism  is  brought  into  line  with  Christianity, 
while  the  Christian  centuries  supply  the  portraits 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

of  the  student  S.  Jerome,  the  Christian  kings  S. 
Louis  and  King  Charles  the  First,  the  meek 
biographer  Isaac  Walton,  the  saintly  theologian 
and  confessor  Henry  Hammond.1  It  may  be 
doubted  whether  any  devotional  book,  except 
the  Psalter  itself,  brings  so  wide  and  varied  a 
set  of  themes  within  the  range  of  meditation 
and  praise.  One  motto  of  the  book  might  well 
be  the  words  of  S.  Paul :  "  Every  creature  of 
God  is  good,  and  nothing  to  be  refused,  if  it  be 
received  with  thanksgiving,"  or  the  author's  own 
words : 

There  is  no  light  but  Thine  ;  with  Thee  all  beauty 
glows. 

(2)  Such  is  the  first  characteristic,  a  very 
bright  characteristic  ;  but  equally  marked  is  the 
intensity  of  sad  feeling.  Experience  has  taught 
the  poet  that  "  dreary  were  this  earth,  if  earth 
were  all."  He  has  himself  told  us  elsewhere 
that  he  was  by  nature  inclined  to  melancholy, 
"to  a  certain  humour  .  .  .  proud  and  fantastic, 
which  I  find  very  often  at  hand  forbidding  me 
to  enjoy  the  good  things  and  pursue  the  generous 
studies  which  a  kind  Providence  throws  so  richly 
in  my  way."  2     The  poems  bear  witness  that  it 

1  Third  Sunday  after  Epiphany  (architecture  and 
music):  Third  Sunday  in  Lent  and  Palm  Sunday 
(poetry):  Fifth  Sunday  in  Lent  (history):  The  Cir- 
cumcision (Jewish  History)  :  The  Epiphany  (Pagan 
History)  :  First  Sunday  in  Advent,  King  Charles,  The 
Restoration  (Church  History). 

2  Letter  to  J.  T.  Coleridge,  "  Memoir,"  p.  66. 
Dean  Paget  quotes  him  as  one  who  in  modern  times 
had  conquered  the  tendency  to  "accidie."  "The 
Spirit  of  Discipline,"  p.   35. 


INTRODUCTION         xvii 

had  required  a  struggle  on  his  part  to  break  with 
worldly  ambitions  and  earthly  hopes,1  and  that 
the  sorrow  of  unrequited  love  had  sunk  deep 
into  his  heart.2  He  felt  keenly,  too,  the  loss  of 
loved  friends  by  death ;  but  keenest  of  all  is  the 
sorrow  for  sin,  the  pang  of  remorse.  It  is  the 
sense  of  sin  in  himself  which  makes  him  feel 
unworthy  to  read  "  one  page  of  Nature's  beaute- 
ous book" ;  it  is  this  which  fills  him  with  that 
terrible  sense  of  loneliness,  which  makes  him 
shrink  from  the  society  of  the  pure  and  inno- 
cent ; 3  it  is  the  presence  of  sin  in  the  Church 
which  makes  him  melancholy  and  despondent 
at  moments  for  her  future,  and  leads  him  to 
assume  that  "the  Church  is  in  a  state  of 
decay " ;  it  is  the  universal  presence  of  sin 
which  gives  a  note  of  sadness  to  the  blithest 
strains  of  Nature ;  and  makes  him  lay  stress  on 
the  terrific  justice  of  God's  punishments.4 

(3)  But  there  is  yet  a  third  equally-marked 
characteristic,  the  faith  in  God's  forgiving  and 
restoring  love  ;  the  faith  that  mercy  rejoiceth 
against  justice,  that  innocence  and  brightness 
can  be  recovered  by  penitence.  Bishop  Butler 
has  pointed  out  that  there  is  an  element  of 
mercy  or  compassion  in  the  original  constitution 
of  the  world,  and  he  has  treated  the  Atonement 
of    Our    Lord    as    being    the   climax   of    this 

1  First  Sunday  after  Easter,  Sixteenth  Sunday  after 
Trinity. 

8  Monday  and  Wednesday  before  Easter. 

8  Septuagesima  Sunday,  Ash-Wednesday,  Third  and 
Twenty-fourth  Sundays  after  Trinity. 

4  First  Sunday  after  Christmas,  Second  Sunday  in 
Lent. 


xviii        INTRODUCTION 

element.1  It  is  impossible  to  say  whether  in 
this,  as  in  so  many  other  respects,  Keble  is 
consciously  indebted  to  the  author  of  "  The 
Analogy  "  ;  but  it  is  certain  that  the  thought 
finds  nowhere  a  more  frequent  and  a  more 
poetical  expression  than  in  "  The  Christian 
Year.'*  Let  us  listen  to  the  choir  that  sings 
of  mercy.  There  is  the  nightingale  reproving 
man's  sadness  with  joyous  cheer ;  the  gentle 
breezes  whispering  that  love  yet  lives ;  the 
gentle  rainbow  soothing  the  wearied  sight ;  the 
lilies  of  the  field  soothing  in  sorrow  on  life's 
downward  way ;  there  is  solace  in  every  star 
and  every  cottage  hearth  :  there  is  the  sympathy 
of  kind  friends,  of  bosoms  waiting  to  receive 
our  sighs,  who  love  us  and  lead  us  to  hope  in 
God's  forgiveness :  there  is  happiness  as  we 
watch  some  placid  holy  deathbed ;  the  Church 
adds  her  soothing  lay,  the  soothing  charm  of 
her  Eucharistic  and  Burial  services  ;  the  guardian 
spirits  of  the  dead  cheer  the  lonely  room  ;  the 
saints  by  sweet  remembrance  soothe  our  woes : 
our  angel  friends  will  be  with  us  at  the  judg- 
ment :  and  all  these  lead  us  on  with  hope  and 
faith  into  the  Presence  of  the  Lord  Himself. 
And  though  we  may  not  have  that  perilous 
sense  of  assurance,  which  would  lead  us  to 
relax  our  efforts,2  yet  we  may  rest  on  the  sense 

i  "  The  Analogy,"  Part  ii.  chap.  5. 

2  Compare  the  Sixth  Sunday  alter  Epiphany  and 
the  Fourth  Sunday  alter  Easter.  The  same  thought  of 
the  danger  of  trusting  to  our  feelings  lor  salvation  is 
strongly  expressed  in  a  sermon  preached  on  Dec.  14, 
1823.  "  Sermons  Occasional  and  Parochial,"  xv.,  esp. 
p.  185 


INTRODUCTION  xix 

of  His  individual  pardoning  love :  His  atoning 
death  gives  us  safety :  our  selfish  sorrow  is 
purified  into  unselfish  penitence ;  there  comes 
the  sweet  repose  of  hearts  repenting ;  the 
princely  heart  of  innocence  is  given  back  to 
the  contrite :  it  becomes  wrong  to  brood  over 
the  past  and  cherish  remorseful  thoughts :  it 
is  our  privilege  and  our  duty  to  outlive  years 
of  folly  by  a  life  of  grateful   Love. 

Of  a  truth  it  was  not  in  vain  that  he  had 
wooed  the  soothing  art. 

We  may  reach  somewhat  the  same  result  by 
a  different  process.  It  is  a  most  interesting 
study  to  read  the  poems  in  chronological  order ; 
and,  although  it  is  true  that  the  intention  to  fit 
the  poems  into  particular  niches  in  the  Christian 
year  interferes  a  little  with  their  spontaneity,  yet 
this  really  only  applies  to  the  later  poems,  and 
much  of  human  interest  is  gained  by  this  process 
for  the  appreciation  of  the  volume.1 

The  earliest  poem,  that  for  the  Purification, 
dates  from  1819.  As  early  as  1820  it  was  the 
writer's  practice  to  keep  the  poems  in  a  fair-copy 
book  as  though  for  publication  at  some  future 
time ; 2  in  1825  friends  induced  him  to  prepare 
them  at  once  for  publication  ;  the  preface  was 
written  on  May  30,  1827,  and  the  volume 
appeared  directly  afterwards.     In  1828  a  third 

1  In  Appendix  II.  will  be  found  a  chronological  list 
of  the  Poems.  This  is  in  the  main  the  same  as  that 
already  published  in  my  "  Biography  of  John  Keble," 
but  in  a  few  details  I  have  been  able  to  make  it  com- 
pleter and  more  accurate. 

2  Appendix  I.  contains  an  account  of  this  and  other 
MSS.  of  "The  Christian  Year." 


xx  INTRODUCTION 

edition  appeared  containing  as  additional  matter, 
six  poems  on  the  Occasional  services.  The 
composition  of  the  whole  volume  then  falls 
within  the  years  1 819-1828.  The  circum- 
stances of  Mr  Keble's  life  suggest  a  division 
of  these  years  into  three  periods,  the  first  ex- 
tending from  181 9- 1823,  the  second  from 
1823-1825,  and  the  last  from   1825-1828. 

During  the  first  period  Keble  was  an  active 
tutor  at  Oriel  College,  Oxford.  One  trace  of 
this  university  life  is  to  be  found  in  the  circum- 
stances which  caused  the  poem  for  S.  John's 
Day ; 1  the  deaths  of  his  friend  Coleridge's 
child,  and  of  his  friend  Patteson's  wife  in 
1820,  seem  to  be  alluded  to  in  the  poem  for 
the  Wednesday  before  Easter,  and  a  visit  paid 
to  Malvern  and  Aberystwith  in  1822  has 
inspired  his  only  poem  on  mountain  scenery, 
that  for  the  Twentieth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 
This  period  has  produced  the  brightest  and 
most  hopeful  of  the  poems ;  in  style  a  few 
are  a  little  more  prosaic  than  the  later  poems, 
but  the  majority  are  clear,  melodious,  and 
happy.  They  begin  with  the  praise  of  purity 
and  lowliness ;  they  include  the  greater  number 
of  the  poems  on  Nature ;  they  tell  of  its  sym- 
bolism, its  sadness,  its  pervading  throb  of  Love  ; 
they  speak  of  the  Presence  of  Christ  in  Nature, 
in  History,  in  wedded  life,  in  celibate  life,  in 
city  life,  and  in  country  life,  of  the  happiness 
that  springs  from  sacrifice,  and  of  the  perma- 
nence of  Christian  joy. 

The  second  period,  from  May  1823  to 
1  See  the  note  there  (p.  26). 


INTRODUCTION  xxi 

September  1825  covers  the  time  when  he  was 
living  at  Southrop  in  Gloucestershire,  in  pastoral 
charge  of  that  and  of  the  two  neighbouring 
parishes ;  the  time  when  he  took  Froude  and 
Wilberforce  and  Isaac  Williams  as  pupils  in 
his  house.  No  doubt  it  was  a  time  of  much 
happiness,  for  was  it  not  then  that  the  gardener 
made  his  comment  on  the  party:  "There  is 
Master,  the  greatest  boy  of  them  all "  ?  but  it 
was  marked  withal  by  two  great  sorrows :  it 
began  with  his  mother's  death  (May  11, 
1823);  it  ended  with  the  refusal  of  an  offer 
of  marriage  by  a  lady  whom  he  had  long 
wished  to  make  his  wife.  At  the  same  time 
he  was  growing  more  and  more  dissatisfied 
with  the  low  spiritual  tone  which  prevailed 
in  the  Church,  and  the  Erastian  spirit  in 
which  the  State  was  prepared  to  deal  with 
her.  All  these  influences  have  left  their  mark 
upon  the  Poems :  that  for  the  Annunciation 
tells  of  the  sacredness  of  a  mother's  love: 
those  for  the  Twenty-fifth  Sunday  after  Trinity 
and  for  Holy  Innocents'  Day  show  that 
pastoral  love  for  children  which  was  destined 
to  produce  the  "  Lyra  Innocentium " :  the 
chief  Nature  Poem  (First  Sunday  after  Epi- 
phany) preaches  content :  God's  consecration 
is  on  suffering,  doubt,  and  punishment:  the 
lesson  of  sweet  peace  is  rather  in  all  to  be 
resigned  than  blest :  the  weary  task  of  middle 
life  is  dwelt  upon,  and  the  sad  loneliness  of 
each  heart:  there  is  more  sadness  for  the 
Church  itself;  the  signs  of  coming  judgment 
are  pointed  out :  one  of  the  latest  poems  of 
b 


xxii         INTRODUCTION 

this  period  (Sunday  next  before  Advent)  tells 
the  secret  of  much  of  the  utterances  of  the 
time ;  they  come  from 

A  bosom  freshly  taught  to  grieve 
For  lavished  hours  and  love  misspent. 

The  final  period,  from  October  1825  to 
March  1828  is  of  a  more  mixed  character. 
Commencing  with  the  year  when  he  was  curate 
at  Hursley,  the  year  which  an  intimate  friend 
has  characterised  as  "the  brightest  and  most 
sunshiny  "  period  of  his  life,1  it  was  broken  by 
what  was  probably  the  greatest  sorrow  of  his 
early  life,  the  sudden  death  of  his  favourite 
sister  in  September  1826,  and  the  rest  of  the 
time  was  passed  by  him  quietly  at  Fairford  as 
curate  to  his  father.  The  time  was  not  so 
prolific  as  the  last  period,  and  the  results  were 
varied.  Two  of  the  most  perfect  and  happy 
of  all  the  poems  sprang  from  it :  that  for  the 
Monday  before  Easter  tells  of  Christ's  personal 
love  for  every  individual  soul ;  that  for  the 
Fifteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity  traces  the 
secret  of  the  beauty  of  Nature  to  its  simple 
trust  in  God.  But  there  is  still  the  sense  of 
sad  loneliness,  of  the  reproaching  conscience, 
of  the  desire  for  forgiveness,  and  the  attractive 
power  of  the  Cross  becomes  stronger  to  him 
(Good  Friday).  The  style  is  less  clear, 
some  of  the  poems  give  the  impression  of 
being  written,  as  it  were,  to  order,  with  a 
view  to  completing  the  volume ;  but,  as  he 
himself  tells  us  in  the  Advertisement,  the  necessity 
1  J.  T.  Coleridge  :  "  Memoir,"  p.  128. 


INTRODUCTION        xxiii 

of  dealing  with  the  Occasional  Services  in  which 
the  Church  touches  personal  and  domestic  life, 
brought  home  to  him,  even  more  than  before, 
the  soothing  tendency  of  the  Prayer  Book, 
which  it  was  his  chief  purpose  to  exhibit. 

Thus  the  chronological  study  of  the  poems 
leads  us  to  emphasise  the  same  notes  of  con- 
secration, suffering,  and  soothing,  which  we 
have  reached  before,  and  seems  to  justify  us 
in  placing  them  in  that  order. 

Such  notes  show  how  fitted  the  book  is  to 
deepen  devotion,  but  there  is  one  class  of  people 
above  all  others,  for  whose  help  it  is  most 
adapted.  It  is  "an  admirable  handbook  for 
the  parish  priest,  because  written  by  one  who 
himself  laboured  through  the  greater  part  of 
his  ministerial  career  as  a  parish  priest."  l 

This  would  be  sufficiently  obvious  from  the 
points  already  drawn  out :  it  is  the  parish  priest 
who  more  than  any  one  else  needs  to  realise  the 
consecration  of  all  life,  the  value  of  each  indi- 
vidual soul,  the  seriousness  of  sin,  the  possibility 
and  methods  of  bringing  home  the  message  of 
forgiveness,  the  high  ideal  of  the  Church.  But 
his  peculiar  needs  are  more  specially  dealt  with ; 
the  ideal  of  God's  chosen  priest  is  sketched  in 
the  poem  for  S.  Matthias,  that  of  "  Comfort's 

1  "  The  Poetry  of  Keble  as  a  guide  to  the  Clergy  in 
their  Pastoral  work:"  by  C.  C.  Mackarness  (York, 
1 891),  p.  8.  This  interesting  pamphlet  draws  its 
illustrations  from  the  "  Lyra  Innocentium  "  as  well  as 
from  "  The  Christian  Year."  The  pastoral  allusions 
in  "The  Christian  Year  "are  excellendy  drawn  out 
in  "The  Country  Clergyman's  Ideal."  by  P.  G.  Medd. 


xxiv        INTRODUCTION 

true  son,"  in  those  for  S.  Barnabas  and  for  the 
Visitation  of  the  Sick. 

The  life  of  the  Lord  is  sketched  as  a  pattern 
of  the  pastor's  work :  the  story  of  the  false 
prophet  bids  him  persevere  to  the  end  ;  that  of 
Elijah  teaches  him  to  win  sinners  by  soft,  meek, 
tender  ways,  and  to  be  content  to  work  on  with- 
out the  sight  of  results.  His  eye  must  be  lifted 
above  earth  that  he  may  live  an  angel's  life  on 
earth  :  his  daily  work  is  to  bear  his  Cross  nor 
count  it  loss  ;  he  must  sacrifice  all  hope  of  ease 
or  praise ;  he  must  patiently  travail  in  second 
birth  of  souls  that  will  not  be  redeemed :  he 
must  preach  the  sternness  of  God's  judgments, 
for  souls  may  be  lost  while  his  heart  is  in  the 
world,  and  God  is  "  angered  worst  with  holy 
things  profaned  and  cursed." 1  But  he  has 
his  special  encouragements  too :  the  Incarna- 
tion comes  with  a  special  message  of  hope  and 
comfort  to  him  ;  the  lowly  couch  of  sickness 
teaches  him  patience  ;  the  sight  of  a  placid, 
holy  death  brings  happiness  to  him  ;  Christ  is 
with  him,  and  is  able  to  bless,  even  in  moments 
of  apparent  failure  and  disappointment;  the 
spirit  given  in  Ordination  guides  his  pastoral 
warfare  and  wakes  him  when  tempted  to 
slumber  ;  it  teaches  and  enlightens  the  clergy 
Till  they  with  open  heart  and  free 
Teach  all  Thy  word  in  all  its  power.8 

1  Compare  the  Second  Sunday  in  Advent,  Second 
Sunday  in  Lent,  first  Sunday  after  Easter,  Tuesday  in 
Whitsun-week,  Eighth,  Ninth,  Sixteenth,  Seventeenth, 
Twenty-first  Sundays  after  Trinity. 

2  Compare  Christmas  Day,  Tuesday  in  Easter  week, 
Fifth  Sunday  after  Trinity,  Catechism,  Ordination. 


INTRODUCTION "       xxv 

This  list  of  allusions  to  the  priestly  life  might 
easily  be  prolonged :  but  after  all  it  is  only  by 
experience,  by  personal  reading  and  meditation, 
that  any  book  can  gain  a  devotional  value.  It 
is  enough  to  indicate  the  path  which  will  lead 
to  sights  of  beauty.  The  traveller  must  climb 
it  himself,  in  order  to  see  the  view.  This  at 
least  has  become  clear,  that  "The  Christian 
Year"  is  a  book  which  will  always  appeal  to 
the  educated  and  cultivated  intellect;  that  it 
will  appeal  with  special  force  to  all  who  have 
the  responsibility  of  teaching  religious  truth ; 
but  its  appeal  will  not  cease  here.  As  long 
as  men's  minds  are  touched  by  the  peaceful 
and  consoling  side  of  Nature  ;  as  long  as  there 
is  reverence  felt  for  the  poor  and  simple ;  as 
long  as  there  is  suffering  and  disappointment  and 
death  in  the  world,  so  long  will  "The  Christian 
Year  "  live  in  the  strength  of  that  soothing  art 

Which  only  souls  in  sufferings  tried 
Bear  to  their  suffering  brethren's  side. 

WALTER  LOCK. 


This  edition  is  in  the  main  a  reprint  of  that 
published  by  Messrs  Methuen  in  1895  ;  but 
several  mistakes  in  that  have  been  corrected  and 
additional  illustrations  of  Mr  Keble's  language 
have  been  added.  For  these  I  am  mainly  in- 
debted to  others,  to  the  writer  of  an  article  in 
the  Church  Quarterly  Review  (July  1 896),  and 
to  private  correspondents,  especially  to  Mrs  Inge, 
of  Worcester  College,  Oxford ;  the  Rev.  E. 
Marshall,   of  Sandford,    S.    Martin  ;   and  the 


xxvi         INTRODUCTION 

Rev.  Julian  Moreton,  who  has  supplied  a  slight 
emendation  in  the  poem  for  S.  Matthias'  Day. 
The  chief  additions  will  be  found  in  the  Morning 
Hymn  and  the  poems  for  Christmas  Day,  the 
Third  Sunday  after  Epiphany,  Palm  Sunday, 
Monday  in  Whitsun  Week,  Seventh  Sunday 
after  Trinity,  S.  Matthias'  Day,  S.  Peter's  Day, 
S.  Simon  and  S.  Jude's  Day,  S.  Matthew's  Day, 
The  Churching  of  Women.  W.  L. 

1898. 


APPENDIX  I 

MSS.  OF  "THE  CHRISTIAN  YEAR" 

The  poems  of  "  The  Christian  Year  "  were  circulated 
among  friends  from  the  time  of  their  composition  ; 
consequently  many,  no  doubt,  still  exist  in  private 
hands.  But  in  addition  to  these  stray  copies,  three 
MSS.  are  preserved  in  the  Library  of  Keble  College, 
Oxford,  which  have  been  consulted  for  this  edition. 
They  show  considerable  variant  readings,  but  as 
a  rule  these  are  unimportant,  or  have  been  de- 
liberately altered  by  the  author.  No  attempt  has 
therefore  been  made -to  offer  a  complete  list  of  such 
variants,  but  only  a  few  have  been  noted,  which  seemed 
to  have  some  special  features  of  interest.  I  have 
entitled  these  MSS.  K.  i,  K.  2,  and  R.,  and  referred  to 
them  as  such,  when  they  differ.  If  they  agree,  they 
are  classed  together  as  "  MSS."  K.  1  is  far  the  most 
valuable  :  it  consists  of  almost  the  whole  of  the  poems, 
written  out  by  Keble  himself,  soon  after  composition, 
in  seven  small  notebooks.  The  first  notebook,  was 
begun  at  Whalton  in  Northumberland,  on  July  30, 
1820;  the  last  is  dated  1827.  In  this  MS.  there  are 
a  few  explanatory  sidenotes,  to  one  of  which  I  am 
indebted  for  the  note  on  p.  109,  infra. 

K.  2  is  of  equal  value,  but  of  less  compass.  It  is  a 
small  volume,  "MS.  Verses  chiefly  on  Sacred  Subjects," 
written  out  by  Keble  himself  and  given  by  him  to  Mrs 
M.  H.  Pruen  in  1822,  and  containing  with  other  Poems, 
the  earliest  thirty  "hymns  "  of  "The  Christian  Year." 
They  end  with  the  Morning  Hymn,  Sept.  19,  1822. 

R.  is  a  large  notebook  written  out  by  Mrs  Samuel 
Rickards  of  Ulcombe.  She  received  the  poems  from 
time  to  time  as  they  were  written  from   the  Misses 


xxviii  APPENDIX  II 


Tucker,  friends  of  Keble's  sisters,  and  copied  them 
into  this  book.  Thi3  contains  nearly  the  whole  of  the 
volume,  but,  as  might  be  expected,  is  less  accurate  than 
Keble's  own  copies. 

A  fourth  MS.,  the  private  property  of  F.  G. 
Champernowne,  Esq.,  contains  nearly  the  whole 
volume,  written  out,  before  its  publication,  by  the 
Rev.  Thomas  Keble,  the  author's  brother.  It  is  of 
much  the  same  value  as  R. 


APPENDIX  II 


THE  POEMS   OF  "THE   CHRISTIAN  YEAR" 
ARRANGED  IN  ORDER  OF  COMPOSITION 

1 819.  Oct.  10.  The  Purification. 
„  Dec.  27.  S.  John's  Day. 

„  ?  Whitsunday. 

„  ?  Nineteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

„  ?  Septuagesima  Sunday. 

„  ?  Tenth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

1820.  Aug.  20.  Fourth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 
,,  Nov.  25.  The  Evening  Hymn. 

„  ?  S.  Mark's  Day. 

„  ?  S.  Matthias'  Day. 

„  ?  Palm  Sunday. 

1 821.  Aug.  13  or  18.  Wednesday  before  Easter. 
„  Sept.  S.  Michael  and  all  Angels. 

„  Sept.  16.  Thirteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

„  ?  Fourth  Sunday  after  Easter. 

„  ?  The  Dedication. 

„  ?  Fifth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

„  ?  S.  Bartholomew's  Day. 

„  ?  Fourteenth  Sundayafter  Trinity. 

„  ?  Second  Sunday  after  Epiphany. 


APPENDIX  II 


XXIX 


1822.  Jan.  27.  S.  Andrew's  Day. 

„  March  2.  The  Conversion  of  S.  Paul. 

„  April  6.  S.  Luke's  Day. 

„  April  18.  Easter  Day. 

„  Aug.  7.  Second  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

„  Aug.  13.  Ninth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

„  Aug.  22  or  23.  Twelfth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

„  Sept.  14.  S.  Matthew's  Day. 

„  Sept.  20.  The  Morning  Hymn. 

„  Sept.  27.  Burial  of  the  Dead  (written  for 

the    Sixteenth     Sunday    after 

Trinity). 

„  Oct.  11.  Seventeenth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

„  ?  Third  Sunday  in  Lent  (an  earlv 

draft). 

„  ?  Fourth  Sunday  in  Advent. 

1823.  June  5.  Thursday  before  Easter. 

,,  July  15.  Twenty  -  fifth     Sunday     after 

Trinity. 

„  Sept.  25.  Twenty  -  first     Sunday     after 

Trinity. 

,,  Sept.  8  or  28.  Eleventh  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

,,  Oct.  6.  Eighteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

„  Oct.  7.  S.  James's  Day. 

„  Oct.  7.  Twentieth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

„  Dec.  26.  Advent  Sunday. 

1824.  Jan.  5.  The  Holy  Innocents. 
„  Jan.  20.  The  Circumcision. 

„  Jan.  20.  The  Epiphany. 

„  Jan.  20  or  26.  Second  Sunday  in  Advent. 

„  Jan.  26.  Third  Sunday  in  Advent. 

„  Feb.  9.  S.  Thomas'  Day. 

„  Feb.  18.  Sexagesima  Sunday. 

„  March  6.  Quinquagesima  Sunday. 

„  March  9.  First  Sunday  in  Lent. 

„  April  24.  Fifth  Sunday  in  Lent. 

„  May  17.  First  Sunday  after  Epiphany. 

„  May  18.  Fourth  Sunday  in  Lent. 

„  June  3.  Fifth  Sunday  after  Easter. 

„  June  25.  Sunday  after  Ascension  Day. 


XXX 


APPENDIX  II 


1824. 

? 

J> 

? 

? 

S> 

55 

? 

55 

? 

? 

9 

IJ 

1825. 

? 

55 

May  1 5  or 

55 

June  7. 

55 

June  18. 

55 

June  25. 

J) 

July  4. 

» 

July  14. 

)' 

Aug.  3. 

55 

Aug.  15. 

55 

Oct.  23. 

55 

Nov.  4. 

55 

Nov.  12. 

55 

Nov.  29. 

55 

Dec.  19. 

„   OI 

1826. 

1826. 

Jan.  15. 

55 

Jan.  22. 

55 

Jan.  27. 

55 

Feb.  3. 

55 

Feb.  7. 

!) 

Feb.  12. 

11 

March. 

55 

March. 

55 

March  10. 

55 

March  15. 

55 

April  3. 

55 

April  7. 

» 

April  1 1. 

» 

April  13. 

Second  Sunday  in  Lent. 

Sixth  Sunday  after  Epiphany. 

Third  Sunday  after  Epiphany. 

S.  Stephen's  Day. 

Christmas  Day. 

Easter  Eve. 

Sixteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

Tuesday  in  Whitsun-week. 

S.  Peter's  Day. 

Twenty  -  fourth     Sunday    after 

Trinity. 
Ascension  Day. 
First  Sunday  after  Easter. 

[but  August  1 81 8.— R.] 
S.  Barnabas'  Day. 
Sunday  before  Advent. 
S.  Philip  and  S.  James's  Day. 
First  Sunday  after  Christmas. 
All  Saints'  Day. 
Seventh  Sunday  after  Trinity. 
Twenty  -  third     Sunday     after 

Trinity. 
Second  Sunday  after  Christmas. 
Fourth  Sunday  after  Epiphany. 
Second  Sunday  after  Easter. 

Monday  before  Easter.     [1825. 

-R.] 
Ash-Wednesday. 
First  Sunday  after  Trinity. 
Fifteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 
Twenty  -  second     Sunday    after 

Trinity. 
Monday  in  Easter  Week. 
The  Annunciation. 
Trinity  Sunday. 
Tuesday  in  Easter  Week. 
Third  Sunday  after  Easter. 
S.  Simon  and  S.  Jude's  Day. 
Third  Sunday  after  Trinity. 
S.  John  Baptist's  Day. 
Holy  Baptism. 


APPENDIX  II 


XXXI 


1826 

!5 

April  15 
May  9. 
? 

» 

? 

l827 
» 

n 

Jan.  31. 
Feb.  9. 
Feb.  16. 
Feb.  21. 

? 

? 

» 

j) 
j» 
n 

» 

? 
March  9. 
March  13. 
March  17. 
Nov.  11. 

? 

? 

>> 

? 
? 

1828. 

March  2 

of  tht 


Sixth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 
Fifth  Sunday  after  Epiphany. 
Good  Friday.     (An  early  form  of 

this  was  written  in  1825.) 
Monday  in  Whitsun-week. 


Holy  Communion. 
Third  Sunday  in  Lent. 
Catechism. 
Confirmation. 
Matrimony. 
Visitation  and  Communion 

Sick. 
Eighth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 
Commination. 
Churching  of  Women. 
Tuesday  before  Easter. 
Gunpowder  Treason. 
King  Charles  the  Martyr 
Forms  of  Prayer  to  be 

used  at  Sea. 
The  Accession 
The  Restoration 

Royal  Family 
Ordination. 


Added  in 
}•  the  third 
edition, 
of  the  I       1828. 

J 


It  has  been  suggested  with  great  probability  that 
the  exact  title  of  the  volume  was  borrowed  from 
Sermon  iv.  "  The  Christian  Year,"  of  u  A  Christian 
Guide  for  Plain  People,"  by  the  author's  great  friend, 
the  Reverend  J.  Miller  (Oxford,  1820).  The  sermon 
shows  how  the  cycle  of  the  Christian  seasons  tends  to 
build  up  a  practical  religion  in  simple  people.  [Notes 
and  queries  V.  xi.,  p.  224.] 


THE  CHRISTIAN  YEAR 


NOTE 

In  the  preliminary  note  prefixed  to  each  poem,  the 
title,  wherever  one  is  given,  is  Mr  Keble's  own. 
The  analysis  of  the  poem  is  due  to  the  present 
editor. 

In  the  notes  at  the  foot  of  each  page,  those  signed 
J.  K.  are  Mr  Keble's  own,  and  are  reprinted  from 
earlier  editions.  The  present  editor  is  responsible  for 
the  rest. 

"  MSS."  signifies  that  a  variant  reading  is  found  in 
all  the  three  manuscripts  described  in  Appendix  I. 

K.  i,K.  2,  or  R.,  signifies  that  the  variation  occurs 
only  in  one  or  other  of  these  manuscripts. 


The  reader  is  indebted  to  the  help  which  I  have 
received  from  my  friend,  the  Rev.  F.  A.  Clarke, 
Fellow  of  Corpus  Christi  College,  Oxford,  who  has 
revised  the  proofs  and  helped  me  with  valuable 
suggestions. 


ADVERTISEMENT 

XT  EXT  to  a  sound  rule  of  faith,  there  is 
^  nothing  of  so  much  consequence  as  a 
sober  standard  of  feeling  in  matters  of  practical 
religion :  and  it  is  the  peculiar  happiness  of  the 
Church  of  England  to  possess,  in  her  authorised 
formularies,  an  ample  and  secure  provision  for 
both.  But  in  times  of  much  leisure  and  un- 
bounded curiosity,  when  excitement  of  every 
kind  is  sought  after  with  a  morbid  eagerness, 
this  part  of  the  merit  of  our  Liturgy  is  likely 
in  some  measure  to  be  lost,  on  many  even  of  its 
sincere  admirers :  the  very  tempers  which  most 
require  such  discipline,  setting  themselves,  in 
general,  most  decidedly  against  it. 

The  object  of  the  present  publication  will  be 
attained,  if  any  person  find  assistance  from  it  in 
bringing  his  own  thoughts  and  feelings  into  more 
entire  unison  with  those  recommended  and 
exemplified  in  the  Prayer  Book.  The  work 
does  not  furnish  a  complete  series  of  composi- 
tions ;  being,  in  many  parts,  rather  adapted  with 
more  or  less  propriety  to  the  successive  portions 
of  the  Liturgy,  than  originally  suggested  by 
them.  Something  has  been  added  at  the  end 
concerning  the  several  Occasional  Services : 
which    constitute,     from     their     personal     and 

XXXV 


xxxvi     ADVERTISEMENT 

domestic  nature,  the  most  perfect  instance  of 
that  soothing  tendency  in  the  Prayer  Book, 
which  it  is  the  chief  purpose  of  these  pages  to 
exhibit. 


May  30th,  1827. 


MORNING 

His  compassions  fail  not.  They  are  new  every 
morning.     Lamentations  iii.  22,  23. 

MORNING  HYMN.     Sept.  19  or  Sept.  20,  1822. 

The  main  thought  of  this  meditation  is  the  happi- 
ness of  sacrifice.  Nature  pays  its  daily  tribute  to 
Heaven,  and  God  provides  for  man  a  daily  sacrifice 
in  the  path  of  ordinary  life ;  if  only  he  has  the  self- 
denial  to  offer  it  to  God,  he  is  drawn  daily  nearer  to 
God.  Cf.  the  Morning  Hymn  by  John  Austin,  1668. 
(Palgrave's  "  Treasury  of  Sacred  Song,"  clxiv.) 

LJUES  of  the  rich  unfolding  morn,1 

That,  ere  the  glorious  sun  be  born, 
By  some  soft  touch  invisible 
Around  his  path  are  taught  to  swell  2  ; — 

Thou  rustling  breeze  so  fresh  and  gay, 
That  dancest  forth  at  opening  day, 
And  brushing  by  with  joyous  wing, 
Wakenest  each  little  leaf  to  sing  ; — 

Ye  fragrant  clouds  of  dewy  steam, 
By  which  deep  grove  and  tangled  stream 
Pay,  for  soft  rains  in  season  given, 
Their  tribute  to  the  genial  heaven; — 

K'Hues":  "gleams."— MSS. 

2  Swell.  The  first  Edition  reads  "  dwell,"  but  all 
MSS.  "swell";  this  should  be  compared  with  S. 
Matthew's  Day,  st.  8,  which  was  written  within  a 
week  of  this  poem. 

A  x 


2  MORNING 

Why  waste  your  treasures  of  delight 
Upon  our  thankless,  joyless  sight ; 
Who  day  by  day  to  sin  awake, 
Seldom  of  Heaven  and  you  partake  ? 1 

Oh  !   timely  happy,  timely  wise, 
Hearts  that  with  rising  morn  arise  ! 
Eyes  that  the  beam  celestial  view, 
Which  evermore  makes  all  things  new  ? 2 

New  every  morning  is  the  love 
Our  wakening  and  uprising  prove ; 
Through  sleep  and  darkness  safely  brought, 
Restored  to  life,  and  power,  and  thought. 

New  mercies,  each  returning  day, 
Hover  around  us  while  we  pray  ; 
New  perils  past,  new  sins  forgiven, 
New  thoughts  of  God,  new  hopes  of  Heaven. 

If  on  our  daily  course  our  mind 
Be  set  to  hallow  all  we  find, 
New  treasures  still,  of  countless  price, 
God  will  provide  for  sacrifice.3 

Old  friends,  old  scenes,  will  lovelier  be, 
As  more  of  Heaven  in  each  we  see  :  4 

1  Between  stanzas  4  and  5  all  the  MSS.  insert — 

"  Hence  the  poor  sinner  still  has  found 
Life  but  one  dull  unvarying  round, 
And  mourned  ere  half  his  course  was  run 
That '  nought  is  new  beneath  the  sun.'  " 

The  stanza  was  printed  in  the  proof  sheet  of  ed.  i., 

but  was  struck  out  in  the  final  revision. 

2  Rev.  xxi.  5. 

3  Cf.  Gen.  xxii.  8.     My  son,  God  will  provide  him- 
self a  lamb  for  a  burnt  offering. 

4  "  In  each  " :  "  on  earth."— R. 


MORNING  3 

Some  softening  gleam  of  love  and  prayer 
Shall  dawn  on  every  cross  and  care. 

As  for  some  dear  familiar  strain 
Untired  we  ask,  and  ask  again, 
Ever,  in  its  melodious  store, 
Finding  a  spell  unheard  before ; 

Such  is  the  bliss  of  souls  serene, 

When  they  have  sworn,  and  steadfast  mean, 

Counting  the  cost,  in  all  to  espy 

Their  God,  in  all  themselves  deny. 

O  could  we  learn  that  sacrifice, 
What  lights  would  all  around  us  rise ! 
How  would  our  hearts  with  wisdom  talk 
Along  Life's  dullest  dreariest  walk !  l 

We  need  not  bid,  for  cloistered  cell, 
Our  neighbour  and  our  work  farewell, 
Nor  strive  to  wind  ourselves  too  high  2 
For  sinful  man  beneath  the  sky :  8 

The  trivial  round,  the  common  task, 
Would  furnish  all  we  ought  to  ask ; 
Room  to  deny  ourselves  ;  a  road  4 
To  bring  us,  daily,  nearer  God. 

1  Cf.  S.  Luke  xxiv.  32.  Did  not  our  heart  burn 
within  us,  while  he  talked  with  us  by  the  way  ? 

2  "Ourselves":  " our  souls. "— K. 

3  It  is  interesting  to  compare  this  stanza  with  S. 
Matthew's  Day,  st.  1,  written  within  a  week  of  this 
poem. 

*  "Deny":  "subdue."— MSS. 


EVENING 

Seek  we  no  more  ;  content  with  these, 
Let  present  Rapture,  Comfort,  Ease, 
As  Heaven  shall  bid  them,  come  and  go  : — 
The  secret  this  of  Rest  below. 


Only,  O  Lord,  in  Thy  dear  love 
Fit  us  for  perfect  Rest  above ; 
And  help  us,  this  and  every  day, 
To  live  more  nearly  as  we  pray. 

EVENING 


Abide  with  us :  for  it  is  toward  evening,  and  the  day 
is  far  spent.     S.  Luke  xxiv.  29. 

EVENING  HYMN.     Nov.  25,  1820. 

A  personal  prayer  that  Christ  the  True  Light  may  be 
with  the  poet  in  his  meditation,  studies,  and  conversa- 
tion by  day  and  in  his  sleep  by  night  (St.  1-8)  passes 
into  intercession  for  the  church,  the  state,  the  clergy, 
sinners,  the  sick,  the  poor  (9-14). 

The  poem  was  very  probably  composed  in  two  parts. 
Both  in  K.  and  R.  a  line  is  drawn  between  stanzas  8 
and  9,  and  in  R.  "  Sunday  "  is  added  at  the  beginning 
of  the  second  part.  The  words  "  See  Bishop  Andrewes' 
Devotions "  are  added  in  K.  and  K.  2,  probably  with 
reference  to  the  subjects  of  intercession  in  his  Precatio 
Vespertina  (pp.  41,  42,  Ed.  Oxon.  :    1853). 

""PIS  gone,  that  bright  and  orbed  blaze, 
Fast  fading  from  our  wistful  gaze ; 
Yon  mantling  cloud  has  hid  from  sight 
The  last  faint  pulse  of  quivering  light. 

In  darkness  and  in  weariness 
The  traveller  on  his  way  must  press, 
No  gleam  to  watch  on  tree  or  tower, 
Whiling  away  the  lonesome  hour. 


EVENING  5 

Sun  of  my  soul !  l     Thou  Saviour  dear, 
It  is  not  night  if  Thou  be  near : 
Oh  !   may  no  earth-born  cloud  arise 
To  hide  Thee  from  Thy  servant's  eyes. 

When  round  Thy  wondrous  works  below 
My  searching  rapturous  glance  I  throw, 
Tracing  out  Wisdom,  Power,  and  Love, 
In  earth  or  sky,  in  stream  or  grove ; — 

Or  by  the  light  Thy  words  disclose 
Watch  Time's  full  river  as  it  flows, 
Scanning  Thy  gracious  Providence, 
Where  not  too  deep  for  mortal  sense : — 2 

When  with  dear  friends  sweet  talk  I  hold, 
And  all  the  flowers  of  life  unfold ; 
Let  not  my  heart  within  me  burn, 
Except  in  all  I  Thee  discern.8 

When  the  soft  dews  of  kindly  sleep 
My  wearied  eyelids  gently  steep, 
Be  my  last  thought,  how  sweet  to  rest 
For  ever  on  my  Saviour's  breast. 

Abide  with  me  from  morn  till  eve, 
For  without  Thee  I  cannot  live : 
Abide  with  me  when  night  is  nigh, 
For  without  Thee  I  dare  not  die. 

1  Clement  of  Alexandria  ("  Protrept."  c.  vi.)  calls 
The  Word  of  God  "  the  sun  of  the  soul,"  6  8e  X070S  6 
vylrjs  6's  iariv  rj\ios  ipvxys,  which  may  possibly  be  the 
origin  of  the  phrase  here. 

»  "Mortal":  "  feeble."— MS  S. 

3  Cf.  S.  Luke  xxiv.  32  (p.  3  supra) 


6  EVENING 

Thou  Framer  of  the  light  and  dark, 
Steer  through  the  tempest  Thine  own  ark : 
Amid  the  howling  wintry  sea 
We  are  in  port  if  we  have  Thee.1 

The  Rulers  of  this  Christian  land, 
'Twixt  Thee  and  us  ordained  to  stand, — 
Guide  Thou  their  course,  O  Lord,  aright, 
Let  all  do  all  as  in  Thy  sight. 

Oh !   by  Thine  own  sad  burthen,  borne 
So  meekly  up  the  hill  of  scorn, 
Teach  Thou  Thy  Priests  their  daily  cross 
To  bear  as  Thine,  nor  count  it  loss ! 

If  some  poor  wandering  child  of  Thine 
Have  spurned,  to-day,  the  voice  divine, 
Now,  Lord,  the  gracious  work  begin  ; 
Let  him  no  more  lie  down  in  sin.2 

Watch  by  the  sick :  enrich  the  poor 
With  blessings  from  Thy  boundless  store : 
Be  every  mourners  sleep  to-night 
Like  infants'  slumbers,  pure  and  light.3 

Come  near  and  bless  us  when  we  wake, 
Ere  through  the  world  our  way  we  take ; 
Till  in  the  ocean  of  Thy  Jove 
We  lose  ourselves  in  Heaven  above. 

1  "  Though  winds  be  rough  and  waves  be  high, 

It  will  not  sink,  if  Thou  art  by." — MSS. 
Cf.  S.  John  vi.  zi.     Then  they  willingly  received  him 
into  the  ship,  and  immediately  the  ship  was  at  the  land 
whither  they  went. 

2  "  Let  him  not  sleep  to-night  in  sin." — MSS. 

3  "There  is  something  calm  and  hushing  in  the  very 
rhythm." — Miss  Yonge.  K.  i  and  K.  2  read  '  infants' 
slumbers,'  but  in  the  first  edition  it  was  printed  'infant's.' 


ADVENT  SUNDAY  7 

ADVENT  SUNDAY 

Now  it  is  high  time  to  awake  out  of  sleep :  for  now 
is  our  salvation  nearer  than  when  we  believed. — 
Romans  xiii.  II. 

ADVENT  SUNDAY.  Dec.  26..  1823. 
The  royal  entry  of  Christ  into  Jerusalem  is  compared 
with  His  reign  in  Heaven  and  with  His  future  return. 
Then  He  was  followed  both  by  the  crowd  of  selfish 
hearts  untrue  and  also  by  the  few  childlike  souls  who 
reverenced  Him :  so  from  Heaven  he  has  seen  both  the 
blast  of  error  in  the  early  ages,  the  tide  of  crime  in  the 
middle  ages,  the  light  without  love  of  the  later  centuries, 
and  also  the  loving  student,  the  true  Christian  King, 
the  devout  lover  of  nature  and  historian  of  the  Saints. 
There  will  be  the  same  dividing  line  when  He  appears, 
and  the  poem  is  a  call  to  true  Christians  to  be  ready  to 
meet  Him. 

A  WA  KE — again  the  Gospel-trump  is  blown — 
From  year  to  year  it  swells  with  louder 

tone, 
From  year  to  year  the  signs  of  wrath 
Are  gathering  round  the  Judge's  path, 
Strange    words    fulfilled,    and    mighty    works 

achieved, 
And  truth  in  all  the  world  both  hated  and  be- 
lieved.1 

Awake !   why  linger  in  the  gorgeous  town, 
Sworn  liegemen  of  the  Cross  and  thorny  crown  ? 
Up  from  your  beds  of  sloth  for  shame, 
Speed  to  the  eastern  mount  like  flame,2 
Nor  wonder,  should  ye  find  your  King  in  tears, 
E'en  with  the  loud  Hosanna  ringing  in  His  ears.3 

1 "  Truth  ■ :  faith.— K.  R.      2  "  Eastern  " :  holy.—  K.  R. 
3  S.    Luke    xix.   41.      Cf.    the  Tenth   Sunday  after 
Trinity. 


8  ADVENT  SUNDAY 

Alas  !  no  need  to  rouse  them : l  long  ago 
They  are  gone  forth  to  swell  Messiah's  show : 
With  glittering  robes  and  garlands  sweet 
They  strew  the  ground  beneath  His  feet : 
All  but   your  hearts  are  there — O  doomed  to 

prove 
The  arrows  winged  in   Heaven  for   Faith  that 
will  not  love  !  2 

Meanwhile  He  paces  through  the  adoring  crowd, 
Calm  as  the  march  of  some  majestic  cloud, 
That  o'er  wild  scenes  of  ocean-war 
Holds  its  still  course  in  heaven  afar  : 
Even  so,  heart-searching  Lord,  as  years  roll  on, 
Thou  keepest  silent  watch  from  Thy  triumphal 
throne : 

Even  so,  the  world  is  thronging  round  to  gaze 
On  the  dread  vision  of  the  latter  days, 

Constrained  to  own  Thee,  but  in  heart 
Prepared  to  take  Barabbas'  part : 
"Hosanna"  now,  to-morrow  "  Crucify," 
The  changeful  burden  still  of  their  rude  lawless 
cry.8 

Yet  in  that  throng  of  selfish  hearts  untrue 
Thy  sad  eye  rests  upon  Thy  faithful  few, 
Children  and  childlike  souls  are  there, 
Blind  Bartimeus'  humble  prayer, 

1  "  To  rouse  them  " :  "of  wakening." — K.  R. 

2  "  O  set  to  prove 

True    confessors    in   faith,    worst    hypocrites   in 
love."— K.  R. 

3  "  Is  still  the  import  of  their  saintly-sounding  cry." 
-K.  R. 


ADVENT  SUNDAY  9 

And  Lazarus  wakened  from  his  four  days'  sleep, 
Enduring  life  again,  that  Passover  to  keep. 

And  fast  beside  the  olive-bordered  way 
Stands  the  blest  home  where  Jesus  deigned  to 
stay, 
The  peaceful  home,  to  Zeal  sincere 1 
And  heavenly  Contemplation  dear, 
Where   Martha    loved  to   wait  with   reverence 

meet, 
And  wiser  Mary  lingered  at  Thy  sacred  feet. 

Still  through  decaying  ages  as  they  glide, 
Thou  lov'st  Thy  chosen  remnant  to  divide  ;  2 
Sprinkled  along  the  waste  of  years 
Full  many  a  soft  green  isle  appears : 
Pause  where  we  may  upon  the  desert  road, 
Some  shelter  is  in  sight,  some  sacred  safe  abode. 

When  withering  blasts  of  error  swept  the  sky,3 
And   Love's   last  flower  seemed  fain  to  droop 
and  die, 
How  sweet,  how  lone  the  ray  benign 
On  sheltered  nooks  of  Palestine  ! 
Then  to  his  early  home  did  Love  repair, 
And  cheered  his  sickening  heart  with  his  own 
native  air.4 

»  "Peaceful":  "  favoured."— K.  R. 

2  "  So  still  through  ages  of  unblest  decay 

Thou  dost  divide  thy  remnant,  Lord,  ahvay . " — K.  R. 

3  Arianism  in  the  fourth  century. 

4  S.  Jerome  i.  123.  The  reference  is  to  two  letters 
in  which  Paula,  Eustochium,  and  S.  Jerome  invite 
Marcella  to  leave  Rome  and  to  join  them  in  the  sacred 
quiet  of  Bethlehem. 


io         ADVENT  SUNDAY 

Years  roll  away  :  again  the  tide  of  crime 
Has    swept    Thy  footsteps  from    the  favoured 
clime. 
Where  shall  the  holy  Cross  find  rest  ? 
On  a  crowned  monarch's  mailed  breast : 1 
Like  some  bright  angel  o'er  the  darkling  scene, 
Through  court  and  camp  he  holds  his  heaven- 
ward course  serene. 

A  fouler  vision  yet ;  an  age  of  light, 
Light  without  love,  glares  on  the  aching  sight : 
O  who  can  tell  how  calm  and  sweet, 
Meek  Walton  !   shews  thy  green  retreat, 
When  wearied  with  the  tale  thy  times  disclose, 
The  eye  first  finds  thee  out  in  thy  secure  re- 
pose ? 2 

1  S.  Louis  in  the  thirteenth  century. 

2  Isaac  Walton,  1593- 1683.  Author  of  "  The  Com- 
plete Angler,"  and  of  "The  Lives  of  John  Donne, 
Richard  Hooker,  Henry  Wotton,  George  Herbert." 
Compare  Wordsworth's  Ecclesiastical  Sonnets,  iii.  5, 
"  Walton's  Book  of  Lives." 

"There  are  no  colours  in  the  fairest  sky 
So  fair  as  these.     The  feather,  whence  the  pen 
Was  shaped  that  traced  the  lives  of  these  good  men, 
Dropped  from  an  Angel's  wing.     With  moistened  eye 
We  read  of  faith  and  purest  charity 
In  Statesmen,  Priest,  and  humble  Citizen. 
O  could  we  copy  their  mild  virtues,  then 
What  joy  to  live,  what  blessedness  to  die  I 
Methinks  their  very  names  shine  still  and  bright ; 
Apart — like  glow-worms  on  a  summer  night ; 
Or  lonely  tapers  where  from  far  they  fling 
A  guiding  ray ;  or  seen — like  stars  on  high 
Satellites  burning  in  a  lucid  ring — 
Around  meek  Walton's  heavenly  memory." 


SECOND  SUNDAY         n 

Thus  bad  and  good  their  several  warnings  give 
Of  His  approach,  whom  none  may  see  and  live  :  l 
Faith's  ear,  with  awful  still  delight, 
Counts  them  like  minute-bells  at  night, 
Keeping  the  heart  awake  till  dawn  of  morn, 
While   to   her  funeral   pile  this  aged  world  is 
borne. 

But  what  are  Heaven's   alarms  to  hearts  that 

cower 
In  wilful  slumber,  deepening  every  hour, 
That  ckaw  their  curtains  closer  round, 
The  nearer  swells  the  trumpet's  sound  ? 
Lord,  ere  our  trembling  lamps  sink  down  and  die, 
Touch  us  with  chastening  hand,  and  make  us 
feel  Thee  nigh. 

SECOND  SUNDAY  IN  ADVENT 

And  when  these  things  begin  to  come  to  pass,  then 
look  up,  and  lift  up  your  heads,  for  your  redemption 
draweth  nigh.     S.  Luke  xxi.  28. 

THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TIMES.  Jan.  20, 
1824.— K.  Jan.  26.— R. 
Nature  waits  for  the  spring  before  her  new  life  buds 
afresh,  but  the  church  begins  her  year  in  winter,  for  the 
Signs  of  Judgment  are  a  message  to  her  that  her  Saviour 
and  her  Judge  is  at  hand,  and  His  presence  should  sober 
mirth  into  resignation,  and  it  especially  calls  the  clergy 
to  ply  more  actively  their  task. 

\JOT  till  the  freezing  blast  is  still, 

Till  freely  leaps  the  sparkling  rill, 
And  gales  sweep  soft  from  summer  skies, 
As  o'er  a  sleeping  infant's  eyes 

1"Thus  bad  and  good  alternate  warnings  give 

Of  the  dread  day  which  none  shall  see  and  live." — K.  R. 


i2         SECOND  SUNDAY 

A  mother's  kiss ;  ere  calls  like  these, 
No  sunny  gleam  awakes  the  trees, 
Nor  dare  the  tender  flowerets  show 
Their  bosoms  to  the  uncertain  glow. 

Why  then,  in  sad  and  wintry  time, 
Her  heavens  all  dark  with  doubt  and  crime, 
Why  lifts  the  Church  her  drooping  head, 
As  though  her  evil  hour  were  fled  ? 
Is  she  less  wise  than  leaves  of  spring, 
Or  birds  that  cower  with  folded  wing  ? 
What  sees  she  in  this  lowering  sky 
To  tempt  her  meditative  eye  ? 

She  has  a  charm,  a  word  of  fire, 
A  pledge  of  love  that  cannot  tire ; 
By  tempests,  earthquakes,  and  by  wars, 
By  rushing  waves  and  falling  stars, 
By  every  sign  her  Lord  foretold, 
She  sees  the  world  is  waxing  old,1 
And  through  that  last  and  direst  storm 
Descries  by  faith  her  Saviour's  form. 

Not  surer  does  each  tender  gem, 
Set  in  the  fig-tree's  polished  stem, 
Foreshew  the  summer  season  bland, 
Than  these  dread  signs  Thy  mighty  hand  :  2 
But  oh  !   frail  hearts,  and  spirits  dark  ! 
The  season's  flight  unwarn'd  we  mark, 
But  miss  the  Judge  behind  the  door,3 
For  all  the  light  of  sacred  lore : 

1  The   world    hath   lost  his   youth,   and   the  times 
begin  to  wax  old.     2  Esdras  xiv.  10. 

2  Cf.  S.  Luke  xxi.  29. 
8  See  S.  James  v.  9. 


IN  ADVENT  13 

Yet  is  He  there  :   beneath  our  eaves 
Each  sound  His  wakeful  ear  receives : 
Hush,  idle  words,  and  thoughts  of  ill, 
Your  Lord  is  listening  :  peace,  be  still.1 
Christ  watches  by  a  Christian's  hearth, 
Be  silent,  "  vain  deluding  mirth,"  2 
Till  in  thine  altered  voice  be  known 
Somewhat  of  Resignation's  tone. 

But  chiefly  ye  should  lift  your  gaze 
Above  the  world's  uncertain  haze, 
And  look  with  calm  unwavering  eye 
On  the  bright  fields  beyond  the  sky, 
Ye,  who  your  Lord's  commission  bear, 
His  way  of  mercy  to  prepare  : 
Angels  He  calls  ye  :  3  be  your  strife 
To  lead  on  earth  an  Angel's  life. 

Think  not  of  rest ;  though  dreams  be  sweet, 
Start  up,  and  ply  your  heavenward  feet. 
Is  not  God's  oath  upon  your  head, 
Ne'er  to  sink  back  on  slothful  bed, 
Never  again  your  loins  untie, 
Nor  let  your  torches  waste  and  die, 
Till,  when  the  shadows  thickest  fall, 
Ye  hear  your  Master's  midnight  call  ? 

1  Ita    fabulantur,    ut   qui    sciant  Dominum  audire. 
Tertull.  "  Apolog."  p.  36.  edit.  Rigalt.— J.  K. 

2  "Vain    deluding    mirth."      This    is    doubtless    a 
reminiscence  of  the  first  line  of  ■  II  Penseroso  "  : 

"Hence,  vain  deluding  joys." 
8  Angels.     Cf.  Rev.  ii.  l 


i4  THIRD  SUNDAY 


THIRD  SUNDAY  IN  ADVENT 

What  went  ye  out  into  the  wilderness  to  see?  A 
reed  shaken  with  the  wind  ?  .  .  .  Bat  what  went  ye 
out  for  to  see?  A  prophet?  yea,  I  say  unto  you,  and 
more  than  a  prophet.     S.  Matthew  xi.  7,  9. 

THE  TRAVELLERS.     Jan.  26,  1824. 

Christ's  Presence  still  broods  over  the  scenes  where 
He  lived,  and  both  those  who  travel  thither  and  those 
who  stay  at  home  and  try  to  picture  the  scenes  to  their 
imagination  can  find  Him  if  they  are  seeking  not 
pleasure  or  renown  but  the  presence  of  God. 

The  poem  would  seem  to  have  been  suggested  by 
some  friend's  intended  journey  to  the  Holy  Land,  or 
perhaps  only  by  the  author  having  read  some  book  of 
travels  in  the  Holy  Land 


\A/HAT  went  ye  out  to  see 
O'er  the  rude  sandy  lea, 
Where  stately  Jordan  flows  by  many  a  palm, 

Or  where  Gennesaret's  wave 

Delights  the  flowers  to  lave, 
That  o'er  her  western  slope  breathe  airs  of  balm  ? 

All  through  the  summer  night, 

Those  blossoms  red  and  bright * 
Spread  their  soft  breasts,  unheeding,  to  the  breeze, 

Like  hermits  watching  still 

Around  the  sacred  hill, 
Where  erst  our  Saviour  watched  upon  His  knees. 

The  Paschal  moon  above 
Seems  like  a  saint  to  rove, 

1  Oleanders:  with  which  the  western  bank  of  the 
lake  is  said  to  be  clothed  down  to  the  water's  edge. — 
J.  K.  The  original  note  had  "  rhododendrons,"  which 
was  altered  in  consequence  of  the  criticism  in  Stanley's 
"  Sinai  and  Palestine,"  p.  371. 


IN  ADVENT  15 

Left  shining  in  the  world  with  Christ  alone ; 

Below,  the  lake's  still  face 

Sleeps  sweetly  in  the  embrace 
Of  mountains  terraced  high  with  mossy  stone. 

Here  may  we  sit,  and  dream 

Over  the  heavenly  theme, 
Till  to  our  soul  the  former  days  return ; 

Till  on  the  grassy  bed, 

Where  thousands  once  He  fed, 
The  world's  incarnate  Maker  we  discern. 

O  cross  no  more  the  main, 

Wandering  so  wild  and  vain, 
To  count  the  reeds  that  tremble  in  the  wind, 

On  listless  dalliance  bound, 

Like  children  gazing  round, 
Who  on  God's  works  no  seal  of  Godhead  find. 

Bask  not  in  courtly  bower, 

Or  sun-bright  hall  of  power, 
Pass  Babel  quick,  and  seek  the  holy  land — 

From  robes  of  Tyrian  dye 

Turn  with  undazzled  eye 
To    Bethlehem's    glade    or    Carmel's    haunted 
strand. 

Or  choose  thee  out  a  cell 

In  Kedron's  stoned  dell, 
Beside  the  springs  of  Love,  that  never  die ; 

Among  the  olives  kneel 

The  chill  night-blast  to  feel, 
And   watch   the   moon    that  saw  thy  Master's 
agony. 


1 6  THIRD  SUNDAY 

Then  rise  at  dawn  of  day, 

And  wind  thy  thoughtful  way, 
Where  rested  once  the  Temple's  stately  shade, 

With  due  feet  tracing  round  x 

The  city's  northern  bound, 
To  the  other  holy  garden,  where  the  Lord  was 
laid. 

Who  thus  alternate  see 

His  death  and  victory, 
Rising  and  falling  as  on  angel  wings, 

They,  while  they  seem  to  roam, 

Draw  daily  nearer  home, 
Their  heart  untravelled  still  adores  the  King  of 
kings.2 

Or,  if  at  home  they  stay, 

Yet  are  they,  day  by  day, 
In  spirit  journeying  through  the  glorious  land, 

Not  for  light  Fancy's  reed, 

Nor  Honour's  purple  meed, 
Nor  gifted   Prophet's  lore,  nor   Science'   won- 
drous wand. 

But  more  than  Prophet,  more 
Than  Angels  can  adore 

1  "  With  due  feet ":  cf.  Milton,  "  II  Penseroso,"  1.  155. 

2  "Their  heart  untravelled":  i.e.  though  their  feet 
travel  far  from  their  English  home,  their  heart  never 
leaves  its  true  home,  God,  but  is  ever  full  of  adoration. 
For  the  phrase  compare  Goldsmith's  "Traveller,"  1.  8  : 

"Where'er  I  roam,  whatever  realm  to  see, 
My  heart  untravelled  fondly  turns  to  thee." 
The  MS.  reading  "  And  they  have  leave  to  travel  from 
the  King  of  kings  "  expresses  a  different  thought,  that 
their  travels  are  blest  by  God,  and  it  points  the  contrast 
with  the  next  stanza  better. 


IN  ADVENT  17 

With  face  unveiled,  is  He  they  go  to  seek : 

Blessed  be  God,  Whose  grace 

Shews  Him  in  every  place 
To  homeliest  hearts  of  pilgrims  pure  and  meek. 

FOURTH  SUNDAY  IN  ADVENT 

The  eyes  of  them  that  see  shall  not  be  dim,  and  the 
ears  of  them  that  hear  shall  hearken.     Isaiah  xxxii.  3. 

DIMNESS.  1822  or  1823. 
Here  on  earth  it  is  hard  to  appreciate  the  beauty  of 
Nature  or  the  harmony  of  music,  and  memory  fails 
to  recall  what  we  most  wish  to  remember,  but  hereafter 
our  eyes  will  be  purged  to  see  the  King  in  His  beauty, 
our  ears  will  hear  heaven's  strains,  and  memory  will  be 
no  longer  needed.  Meanwhile  the  dulness  of  our 
senses  also  spares  us  from  the  sight  of  much  suffering, 
and  our  spiritual  vision  is  allowed  to  see  enough  of 
eternal  truth  to  train  us  for  the  future. 

C^\F  the  bright  things  in  earth  and  air 
^      How  little  can  the  heart  embrace  ! 1 
Soft  shades  and  gleaming  lights  are  there — 
I  know  it  well,  but  cannot  trace. 

Mine  eye  unworthy  seems  to  read 

One  page  of  Nature's  beauteous  book  ; 

It  lies  before  me,  fair  outspread — 
I  only  cast  a  wishful  look.2 

I  cannot  paint  to  Memory's  eye 

The  scene,  the  glance,  I  dearest  love — 

Unchanged  themselves,  in  me  they  die, 
Or  faint,  or  false,  their  shadows  prove. 

1  "  Oft  as  I  gaze  on  landscape  fair 

In  thought  I  feel  me  poor  and  base." — MSS. 

2  «  Wistful."— MSS. 


18         FOURTH  SUNDAY 

In  vain,  with  dull  and  tuneless  ear, 

I  linger  by  soft  Music's  cell, 
And  in  my  heart  of  hearts  would  hear 

What  to  her  own  she  deigns  to  tell. 

'Tis  misty  all,  both  sight  and  sound — 
I  only  know  'tis  fair  and  sweet — 

'Tis  wandering  on  enchanted  ground 
With  dizzy  brow  and  tottering  feet. 

But  patience  !   there  may  come  a  time 
When  these  dull  ears  shall  scan  aright 

Strains,  that  outring  Earth's  drowsy  chime, 
As  Heaven  outshines  the  taper's  light. 

These  eyes,  that  dazzled  now  and  weak, 
At  glancing  motes  in  sunshine  wink, 

Shall  see  the  King's  full  glory  break, 
Nor  from  the  blissful  vision  shrink : 

In  fearless  love  and  hope  uncloyed 

For  ever  on  that  ocean  bright1 
Empowered  to  gaze  ;  and  undestroyed, 

Deeper  and  deeper  plunge  in  light. 

Though  scarcely  now  their  laggard  glance 
Reach  to  an  arrow's  flight,  that  day 

They  shall  behold,  and  not  in  trance, 
The  region  "  very  far  away."  2 

1  "  In  soberest  raptures  unalloyed 

For  ever  on  '  His  countenance  '  bright." — MSS. 

2  Thine  eyes  shall  see  the  King  in  His  beauty  :  they 
shall  behold  the  land  that  is  very  far  off.  Isaiah 
xxxiii.   17. 


IN  ADVENT  19 

If  Memory  sometimes  at  our  spell 
Refuse  to  speak,  or  speak  amiss, 

We  shall  not  need  her  where  we  dwell 
Ever  in  sight  of  all  our  bliss. 

Meanwhile,  if  over  sea  or  sky 

Some  tender  lights  unnoticed  fleet, 

Or  on  loved  features  dawn  and  die, 
Unread,  to  us,  their  lesson  sweet ; 

Yet  are  there  saddening  sights  around, 
Which  Heaven,  in  mercy,  spares  us  too, 

And  we  see  far  in  holy  ground, 
If  duly  purged  our  mental  view. 

The  distant  landscape  draws  not  nigh 
For  all  our  gazing ;  but  the  soul, 

That  upward  looks,  may  still  descry 
Nearer,  each  day,  the  brightening  goal. 

And  thou,  too  curious  ear,  that  fain 
Wouldst  thread  the  maze  of  Harmony, 

Content  thee  with  one  simple  strain, 
The  lowlier,  sure,  the  worthier  thee ; 

Till  thou  art  duly  trained,  and  taught 
The  concord  sweet  of  Love  divine : 

Then,  with  that  inward  Music  fraught, 
For  ever  rise,  and  sing,  and  shine. 


2o  CHRISTMAS  DAY 


CHRISTMAS  DAY 

And  suddenly  there  was  with  the  Angel  a  multitude 
of  the  heavenly  host  praising  God.     S.  Luke  ii.  13. 

CHRISTMAS  DAY.      1 8  24. 

The  angelic  message  of  the  Incarnation  tells  chiefly  of 
its  lowly  surroundings  and  is  first  welcomed  by  shepherds; 
so  it  comes  home  still  to  the  lowly  and  single  heart,  and 
strengthens  Christian  Pastors  for  theirwork.  The  thought 
is  very  similar  to  that  of  "  The  Shepherds,"  by  Henry 
Vaughan  (Palgrave's  "  Treasury  of  Sacred  Song,"cxxvi.). 
The  poem  seems  also  influenced  by  Jeremy  Taylor's 
comment  upon  the  appearance  to  the  shepherds  and  to  the 
Magi  (Life  of  Christ,  i.  §  4,  vol.  ii.  pp.  89-97,  Ed.  Eden). 
The  appropriateness  of  the  appearance  to  shepherds,  the 
analogy  of  the  pastoral  office  (pp.  89,  90)  the  simile  of  a 
stone  thrown  into  a  river  (p.  92);  the  treatment  of  shep- 
herd and  sage  as  types  of  those  who  reach  truth  by  natural 
reason  or  by  the  secrets  of  philosophy  (p.  96)  are  all 
reproduced  here. 

YA7  HAT  sudden  blaze  of  song 

Spreads  o'er  the  expanse  of  Heaven  ? 
In  waves  of  light  it  thrills  along, 
The  angelic  signal  given — 
"  Glory  to  God  !  "  from  yonder  central  fire 
Flows  out  the  echoing  lay  beyond  the  starry  quire; 

Like  circles  widening  round 
Upon  a  clear  blue  river, 
Orb  after  orb,  the  wondrous  sound 
Is  echoed  on  for  ever : 
"  Glory  to  God  on  high,  on  earth  be  peace, 
And  love  towards  men  of  love l — salvation  and 
release." 
1  I  have  ventured  to  adopt  the  reading  of  the  Vulgate, 
as  being  generally  known  through  Pergolesi's  beautiful 
composition,  "Gloria  in  excelsis  Deo,  et  in  terra  pax 
hominibus  bona;  voluntatis." — J.  K. 


CHRISTMAS  DAY  21 

Yet  stay,  before  thou  dare 
To  join  that  festal  throng  ; 
Listen  and  mark  what  gentle  air 
First  stirred  the  tide  of  song  ; 
'Tis  not,  "  the  Saviour  born  in  David's  home, 
To  Whom  for  power  and  health  obedient  worlds 
should  come  :  " — 

'Tis  not,  "the  Christ  the  Lord  :  "— 
With  fixed  adoring  look 
The  choir  of  Angels  caught  the  word, 
Nor  yet  their  silence  broke  : 
But  when  they  heard  the  sign,  where  Christ 
should  be, 
In  sudden  light  they  shone  and  heavenly  har- 
mony. 

Wrapped  in  His  swaddling  bands, 
And  in  His  manger  laid, 
The  Hope  and  Glory  of  all  lands 
Is  come  to  the  world's  aid : 
No  peaceful  home  upon  His  cradle  smiled, 
Guests  rudely  went  and  came,  where  slept  the 
royal  Child.1 

1  The  original  MSS.  vary  in  the  last  two  lines  and 
add  a  whole  stanza  ;  which  may  be  quoted,  as  it  helps 
to  point  the  contrast  in  stanza  6 : 

"  Wrapped  in  his  swaddling  bands 
And  in  his  manger  laid, 
The  Hope  and  Glory  of  all  lands 
Is  come  to  the  world's  aid : 
Search  out  the  lowliest  mansion,  meanest  room, 
There  shall  ye  find  your  King,  nor  even  there  at  home. 


22  CHRISTMAS  DAY 

But  where  Thou  dwellest,  Lord, 
No  other  thought  should  be, 
Once  duly  welcomed  and  adored, 
How  should  I  part  with  Thee  ? 
Bethlehem  must  lose  Thee    soon,  but  Thou 
wilt  grace 
The  single  heart  to  be  Thy  sure  abiding-place. 

Thee,  on  the  bosom  laid 

Of  a  pure  virgin  mind, 

In  quiet  ever,  and  in  shade, 

Shepherd  and  sage  may  find  ; 
They,  who  have  bowed  untaught  to  Nature's 
sway, 
And   they,  who  follow  Truth  along  her    star- 
paved  way.1 

The  pastoral  spirits  first 

Approach  Thee,  Babe  divine, 
For  they  in  lowly  thoughts  are  nursed, 
Meet  for  Thy  lowly  shrine  : 
Sooner    than    they  should  miss  where  Thou 
dost  dwell, 
Angels  from  heaven  will  stoop  to  guide  them  to 
Thy  cell. 

"  The  heart  imbued  with  earth 
Is  but  a  place  of  guests 
"Where  foul-winged  thoughts  of  lowly  birth 
Successive  make  their  nests. 
Each  in  his  twilight  gloom  with  cheerless  moan, 
Fluttering  a  little  while  and  then  for  ever  gone." 

1  i.e.  All  who  are  like  the  shepherds  of  Bethlehem  or 
the  wise  men  from  the  East. 


S.  STEPHEN'S  DAY         23 

Still,  as  the  day  comes  round 
For  Thee  to  be  revealed, 
By  wakeful  shepherds  Thou  art  found, 
Abiding  in  the  field. 
All  through  the  wintry  heaven  and  chill  night 
air, 
In    music  and  in  light  Thou  dawnest  on  their 
prayer. 

O  faint  not  ye  for  fear — 

What  though  your  wandering  sheep, 
Reckless  of  what  they  see  and  hear, 
Lie  lost  in  wilful  sleep  ? 
High  Heaven  in  mercy  to  your  sad  annoy 
Still  greets    you  with  glad  tidings  of  immortal 

joy- 
Think  on  the  eternal  home, 
The  Saviour  left  for  you  ; 
Think  on  the  Lord  most  holy,  come 
To  dw^ell  with  hearts  untrue  : 
So  shall  ye  tread  untired  His  pastoral  ways, 
And  in  the  darkness   sing    your  carol  of  high 
praise. 

S.  STEPHEN'S  DAY 

He,  being  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  looked  up  stedfastly 
into  heaven,  and  saw  the  glory  of  God,  and  Jesus 
standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God.     Acts  vii.  55. 

S.    STEPHEN'S   DAY.       1824,   probably   early   in 
the  year. 

Of  the  triple  band  of  martyrs,  who  first  recognised 
the  glory  of  the  new-born    King,  S.  Stephen   is   the 


24        S.  STEPHENS  DAY 

one  who  is  likest  in  tone  and  look  to  Him,  and  whose 
death  traces  anew  the  lines  of  His. 

A  S  rays  around  the  source  of  light 

Stream  upward  ere  he  glow  in  sight, 
And  watching  by  his  future  flight 

Set  the  clear  heavens  on  fire  ; 
So  on  the  King  of  Martyrs  wait 
Three  chosen  bands,  in  royal  state,1 
And  all  earth  owns,  of  good  and  great, 
Is  gathered  in  that  choir. 

One  presses  on,  and  welcomes  death : 
One  calmly  yields  his  willing  breath, 
Nor  slow,  nor  hurrying,  but  in  faith 

Content  to  die  or  live : 
And  some,  the  darlings  of  their  Lord, 
Play  smiling  with  the  flame  and  sword, 
And,  ere  they  speak,  to  His  sure  word 

Unconscious  witness  give. 

Foremost  and  nearest  to  His  throne, 
By  perfect  robes  of  triumph  known, 
And  likest  Him  in  look  and  tone, 
The  holy  Stephen  kneels, 

1  Wheatly  on  the  Common  Prayer,  c.  v.  §  iv.  2. 
"  As  there  are  three  kinds  of  martyrdom,  the  first  both 
in  will  and  deed,  which  is  the  highest ;  the  second  in 
will  but  not  in  deed ;  the  third  in  deed  but  not  in  will ; 
so  the  Church  commemorates  these  martyrs  in  the 
same  order:  S.  Stephen  first,  who  suffered  death  both 
in  will  and  deed  ;  S.  John  the  Evangelist  next,  who 
suffered  martyrdom  in  will  but  not  in  deed  ;  the  holy 
Innocents  last,  who  suffered  in  deed  but  not  in  will." — 
J.  K. 


S.  STEPHENS  DAY        25 

With  stedfast  gaze,  as  when  the  sky 
Flew  open  to  his  fainting  eye, 
Which,  like  a  fading  lamp,  flashed  high, 
Seeing  what  death  conceals. 

Well  might  you  guess  what  vision  bright 
Was  present  to  his  raptured  sight, 
Even  as  reflected  streams  of  light 

Their  solar  source  betray — 
The  glory  which  our  God  surrounds, 
The  Son  of  Man,  the  atoning  wounds — 
He  sees  them  all ;  and  earth's  dull  bounds 

Are  melting  fast  away. 

He  sees  them  all — no  other  view 
Could  stamp  the  Saviour's  likeness  true, 
Or  with  His  love  so  deep  embrue 

Man's  sullen  heart  and  gross — 
"  Jesu,  do  Thou  my  soul  receive  : 
Jesu,  do  Thou  my  foes  forgive :  " 
He  who  would  learn  that  prayer,  must  live 

Under  the  holy  Cross. 

He,  though  he  seem  on  earth  to  move, 
Must  glide  in  air  like  gentle  dove, 
From  yon  unclouded  depths  above 

Must  draw  his  purer  breath  ; 
Till  men  behold  his  angel  face 
All  radiant  with  celestial  grace,1 
Martyr  all  o'er,  and  meet  to  trace 

The  lines  of  Jesus'  death. 

1  And  all  that  sat  in  the  council,  looking  stedfastly 
on  him,  saw  his  face  as  it  had  been  the  face  of  an 
angel.     Acts  vi.  15. 


26  S.  JOHN'S  DAY 


S.  JOHN'S  DAY 

Peter  seeing  him,  saith  to  Jesus,  Lord,  and  what 
shall  this  man  do?  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  If  I  will  that 
he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  that  to  thee  ?  Follow  thou 
me.     S.  John  xxi.  21,  22. 

S.  JOHN'S  DAY.     December  27,  181 9. 

The  poem  leaves  S.  John  entirely,  and  is  a  simple 
exhortation  to  trust  the  Lord  for  the  future  of  those 
dear  to  us,  with  a  prayer  for  patience  at  the  sight  of 
their  suffering  and  death. 

There  is  a  well-authenticated  tradition  that  the 
poem  was  suggested  to  Mr  Keble  while  examiner  in 
the  schools,  wondering  what  would  be  the  future  of 
one  of  the  examiners,  a  friend  of  his,  who  was  of 
delicate  health,  and  who  afterwards  died  young,  the 
Rev.  J.  Lowe.  But  there  seems  no  doubt  that  the 
date  of  the  poem  is  1819,  and  Mr  Keble  was  not 
examiner  in  that  year. 

"  I    ORD,  and  what  shall  this  man  do  ? " 

Ask'st  thou,  Christian,  for  thy  friend  ? 
If  his  love  for  Christ  be  true, 

Christ  hath  told  thee  of  his  end  : 
This  is  he  whom  God  approves, 
This  is  he  whom  Jesus  loves. 

Ask  not  of  him  more  than  this, 

Leave  it  in  his  Saviour's  breast, 

Whether,  early  call'd  to  bliss, 

He  in  youth  shall  find  his  rest, 

Or  armed  in  his  station  wait 

Till  his  Lord  be  at  the  gate  : 

Whether  in  his  lonely  course 

(Lonely,  not  forlorn)  he  stay, 

Or  with  Love's  supporting  force 

Cheat  the  toil  and  cheer  the  way : 


S.  JOHNS  DAY  27 


Leave  it  all  in  His  high  hand, 

Who  doth  hearts  as  streams  command.1 

Gales  from  Heaven,  if  so  He  will, 
Sweeter  melodies  can  wake 

On  the  lonely  mountain  rill 

Than  the  meeting  waters  make. 

Who  hath  the  Father  and  the  Son, 

May  be  left,  but  not  alone. 

Sick  or  healthful,  slave  or  free, 

Wealthy,  or  despised  and  poor — 

What  is  that  to  him  or  thee, 

So  his  love  to  Christ  endure  ? 

When  the  shore  is  won  at  last, 

Who  will  count  the  billows  past  ? 

Only,  since  our  souls  will  shrink 
At  the  touch  of  natural  grief, 

When  our  earthly  loved  ones  sink, 
Lend  us,  Lord,  Thy  sure  relief; 

Patient  hearts,  their  pain  to  see, 

And  Thy  grace,  to  follow  Thee. 

1  The  king's  heart  is  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  as  the 
rivers  of  water  :  He  turneth  it  whithersoever  He  will. 
Proverbs  xxi.  u 


28    THE  HOLY  INNOCENTS 


THE  HOLY  INNOCENTS 

These  were  redeemed  from  among  men,  being  the 
first-fruits  unto  God  and  to  the  Lamb. — Revelation 
xiv.  4. 

THE  HOLY  INNOCENTS'  DAY.     Jan.  5,  1824. 

The  presence  of  the  Holy  Innocents  praising  Christ 
in  heaven  is  a  pledge  of  His  tender  love  for  all  children, 
and  also  a  pledge  of  His  comfort  to  all  mothers  who 
lose  their  children  young. 

CAY,  ye  celestial  guards,  who  wait 
^      In  Bethlehem,  round  the  Saviour's  palace 
gate, 

Say,  who  are  these  on  golden  wings, 
That  hover  o'er  the  new-born  King  of  kings, 

Their  palms  and  garlands  telling  plain 
That  they  are  of  the  glorious  martyr  train, 

Next  to  yourselves  ordained  to  praise 
His  Name,  and  brighten  as  on  Him  they  gaze  ? 

But  where  their  spoils  and  trophies?  where 
The  glorious  dint  a  martyr's  shield  should  bear? 

How  chance  no  cheek  among  them  wears 
The  deep-worn  trace  of  penitential  tears, 

But  all  is  bright  and  smiling  love, 
As  if,  fresh-borne  from  Eden's  happy  grove, 

They  had  flown  here,  their  King  to  see, 
Nor  ever  had  been  heirs  of  dark  mortality  ? 

Ask,  and  some  angel  will  reply, 
"  These,  like  yourselves,  were  born  to  sin  and 
die, 

But  ere  the  poison  root  was  grown, 
God  set  His  seal,  and  marked  them  for  His  own. 


THE  HOLY  INNOCENTS    29 

Baptized  in  blood  for  Jesus'  sake, 
Now  underneath  the  Cross  their  bed  they  make, 

Not  to  be  scared  from  that  sure  rest 
By    frightened    mother's    shriek,    or    warrior's 
waving  crest."  * 

Mindful  of  these,  the  firstfruits  sweet 
Borne  by  the  suffering  Church  her  Lord  to  greet, 

Blessed  Jesus  ever  loved  to  trace 
The  "innocent  brightness"  of  an  infant's  face.2 

He  raised  them  in  His  holy  arms, 
He  blessed    them  from   the   world  and  all  its 
harms : 

Heirs  though  they  were  of  sin  and  shame, 
He    blessed    them    in    His    own    and    in    His 
Father's  Name. 

Then,  as  each  fond  unconscious  child 
On  the  everlasting  Parent  sweetly  smiled, 

(Like  infants  sporting  on  the  shore,3 
That  tremble  not  at  Ocean's  boundless  roar), 

Were  they  not  present  to  Thy  thought, 
All    souls,    that    in    their    cradles    Thou    hast 
bought  ? 

But  chiefly  these,  who  died  for  Thee, 
That  Thou  mightst  live  for  them  a  sadder  death 
to  see. 

1  Cf.  Homer,  « Iliad,"  vi.  469. 

"  The  babe  clung  crying  to  his  nurse's  breast 
Scared  at  the  dazzling  helm  and  nodding  crest." — Pope. 

2  From  Wordsworth's  "  Ode." 

u  The  innocent  brightness  of  a  new-born  day 
Is  lovely  yet.  ' 
8  Possibly  a  reminiscence  of  the  same  "  Ode": 
11  And  see  the  children  sport  upon  the  shore, 
And  hear  the  mighty  waters  rolling  evermore." 


3o  FIRST  SUNDAY 

And  next  to  these,  Thy  gracious  word 
Was  as  a  pledge  of  benediction,  stored 

For  Christian  mothers,  while  they  moan 
Their  treasured  hopes,  just  born,  baptized,  and 
gone. 

Oh,  joy  for  Rachel's  broken  heart ! 
She  and  her  babes  shall  meet  no  more  to  part ; 

So  dear  to  Christ  her  pious  haste 
To   trust   them   in    His   arms,    for   ever    safe 
embraced. 

She  dares  not  grudge  to  leave  them  there, 
Where  to  behold    them    was    her   heart's  first 
prayer, 
She  dares  not  grieve — but  she  must  weep, 
As  her  pale  placid  martyr  sinks  to  sleep, 

Teaching  so  well  and  silently 
How,  at  the  shepherd's  call,  the  lamb   should 
die  : 
How  happier  far  than  life  the  end 
Of  souls  that  infant-like  beneath  their  burthen 
bend. 


FIRST  SUNDAY  AFTER 
CHRISTMAS 

So  the  sun  returned  ten  degrees,  by  which  degrees  it 
was  gone  down.     Isaiah  xxxviii.  8  ;  cf.  Joshua  x.  13. 

THE  SUN-DIAL  OF  AHAZ.     Aug.  15,  1825. 

God  stayed  the  sun  for  Joshua,  and  turned  back  the 
degrees  on  the  sun-dial  for  Hezekiah  ;  but  can  He  turn 
back  the  tide  of  past  evil,  the  memories  of  sin  and 
neglect  ?  Yes,  Love  has  even  this  power,  and  Peni- 
tence inspired  by  Love  can  change  the  tide,  can  destroy 


AFTER  CHRISTMAS        31 

remorse,  can  outlive  folly,  and  begin  the  work  of 
Heaven  even  at  the  end  of  life.  (For  the  thought  and 
image,  cf.  "  The  Circumcision,"  St.  6.) 

'^TIS  true,  of  old  the  unchanging  sun 
*       His  daily  course  refused  to  run  ; 

The  pale  moon  hurrying  to  the  west 
Paused  at  a  mortal's  call,  to  aid 
The  avenging  storm  of  war,  that  laid 
Seven  guilty  realms  at  once  on  earth's  defiled 
breast.1 

But  can  it  be,  one  suppliant  tear 
Should  stay  the  ever-moving  sphere  ? 
A  sick  man's  lowly-breathed  sigh, 
When  from  the  world  he  turns  away,2 
And  hides  his  weary  eyes  to  pray, 
Should  change  your  mystic  dance,  ye  wanderers 
of  the  sky  ? 

We  too,  O  Lord,  would  fain  command, 
As  then,  Thy  wonder-working  hand, 

1(i  Twice  in  old  time  the  unchanging  Sun 

His  daily  course  refused  to  run ; 
The  pale  moon  hurrying  to  the  west 

Paused  at  a  mortal's  call,  to  aid 

The  avenging  storm  of  war  that  laid 
Seven  guilty  realms  at  once  on  earth's  defiled  breast. 

"  And  can  it  be  one  lowly  tear 
Should  stay  the  ever-moving  sphere. 
The  sigh  of  one  sick  lonely  heart, 
When  from  the  world  we  turn  away, 
And  hide  our  weary  eyes  to  pray, 
Should  force  the  stars  of  Heaven  from  their  accustomed 
part."— MSS. 
2  Then  Hezekiah  turned  his  face  toward  the  wall, 
and  prayed  unto  the  Lord.      Isaiah  xxxviii.  2. 


32  FIRST  SUNDAY  AFTER  XMAS 

And  backward  force  the  waves  of  Time, 
That  now  so  swift  and  silent  bear 
Our  restless  bark  from  year  to  year ; 
Help  us  to  pause  and  mourn  to  Thee  our  tale  of 
crime. 

Bright  hopes,  that  erst  the  bosom  warmed, 
And  vows,  too  pure  to  be  performed, 

And  prayers  blown  wide  by  gales  of  care  ; — 
These,  and  such  faint  half-waking  dreams, 
Like  stormy  lights  on  mountain  streams, 
Wavering  and  broken  all,  athwart  the  conscience 
glare. 

How  shall  we  escape  the  o'erwhelming  Past  ? 
Can  spirits  broken,  joys  o'ercast, 

And  eyes  that  never  more  may  smile : — 
Can  these  the  avenging  bolt  delay, 
Or  win  us  back  one  little  day 
The  bitterness  of  death  to  soften  and  beguile  ? 

Father  and  Lover  of  our  souls  ! 
Though  darkly  round  Thine  anger  rolls, 

Thy  sunshine  smiles  beneath  the  gloom, 
Thou  seek'st  to  warn  us,  not  confound, 
Thy    showers    would    pierce    the    hardened 
ground, 
And  win  it  to  give  out  its  brightness  and  perfume. 

Thou  smil'st  on  us  in  wrath,  and  we, 
E'en  in  remorse,  would  smile  on  Thee : 

The  tears  that  bathe  our  offered  hearts, 
We  would  not  have  them  stained  and  dim, 
But  dropped  from  wings  of  seraphim, 
All  glowing  with  the  light  accepted  love  imparts. 


CIRCUMCISION  OF  CHRIST  33 

Time's  waters  will  not  ebb,  nor  stay, 
Power  cannot  change  them,  but  Love  may ; 

What  cannot  be,  Love  counts  it  done. 
Deep  in  the  heart,  her  searching  view 
Can  read  where  Faith  is  fixed  and  true, 
Through  shades  of  setting  life  can  see  Heaven's 
work  begun. 

O  Thou,  who  keep'st  the  Key  of  Love, 
Open  Thy  fount,  eternal  Dove, 

And  overflow  this  heart  of  mine, 
Enlarging  as  it  fills  with  Thee, 
Till  in  one  blaze  of  Charity 
Care  and  remorse  are  lost,  like  motes,  in  light 
divine ; 

Till,  as  each  moment  wafts  us  higher, 
By  every  gush  of  pure  desire, 

And  high-breathed  hope  of  joys  above, 
By  every  secret  sigh  we  heave, 
Whole  years  of  folly  we  outlive, 
In  His  unerring  sight,  who  measures  Life  by 
Love. 

THE  CIRCUMCISION  OF  CHRIST 

Tn  whom  also  ye  are  circumcised  with  the  circumcision 
made  without  hands.     Colossians  ii.  n. 

THE  CIRCUMCISION.     Jan.  20,  1824. 

Christ's  sufferings,  which  began  at  His  circumcision, 
form  a  bond  which  unites  the  Saints  of  all  ages  by  their 
atoning  power.  His  Love  changed  the  stream  of  past 
evil  and  won  forgiveness  for  the  Jewish  Church.  So, 
too,  it  knit  Christians  in  sympathy  with  them,  and 
was  the  consecration  of  all  suffering. 
C 


34  CIRCUMCISION  OF  CHRIST 

For  this  sense  of  brotherhood  with  the  Saints  of  the 
O.T.,  cf.  Tracts  for  the  Times  No.  89,  esp.  pp.  97-105. 
The  poem  is  a  companion  to  the  last.  In  that,  Love 
was  described  as  doing  for  the  individual  what  here  it 
does  for  Humanity:  it  mounts  against  the  stream  of 
past  evil. 

'"THE  year  begins  with  Thee, 
1       And  Thou  beginn'st  with  woe, 
To  let  the  world  of  sinners  see 
That  blood  for  sin  must  flow. 

Thine  infant  cries,  O  Lord, 
Thy  tears  upon  the  breast, 
Are  not  enough — the  legal  sword 
Must  do  its  stern  behest. 

Like  sacrificial  wine 
Poured  on  a  victim's  head 
Are  those  few  precious  drops  of  Thine, 
Now  first  to  offering  led. 

They  are  the  pledge  and  seal 
Of  Christ's  unswerving  faith 
Given  to  His  Sire,  our  souls  to  heal, 
Although  it  cost  His  death. 

They  to  His  Church  of  old, 
To  each  true  Jewish  heart, 
In  Gospel  graces  manifold 
Communion  blest  impart. 

Now  of  Thy  Love  we  deem 
As  of  an  ocean  vast, 
Mounting  in  tides  against  the  stream 
Of  ages  gone  and  past.1 

1  Cf.  Rom.  iii.  25.     Hebr.  ix.  15. 


CIRCUMCISION  OF  CHRIST  3s 

Both  theirs  and  ours  Thou  art, 
As  we  and  they  are  Thine  ; 
Kings,  Prophets,  Patriarchs — all  have  part 
Along  the  sacred  line. 

By  blood  and  water  too 
God's  mark  is  set  on  Thee, 
That  in  Thee  every  faithful  view 
Both  covenants  might  see. 

O  bond  of  union,  dear 
And  strong  as  is  Thy  Grace  ! 
Saints,  parted  by  a  thousand  year, 
May  thus  in  heart  embrace. 

Is  there  a  mourner  true, 
Who,  fallen  on  faithless  days, 
Sighs  for  the  heart-consoling  view 
Of  those  Heaven  deigned  to  praise  ? 

In  spirit  mayst  thou  meet 
With  faithful  Abraham  here, 
Whom  soon  in  Eden  thou  shalt  greet 
A  nursing  Father  dear. 

Wouldst  thou  a  poet  be  ? 
And  would  thy  dull  heart  fain 
Borrow  of  Israel's  minstrelsy 
One  high  enraptured  strain  ? 

Come  here  thy  soul  to  tune, 
Here  set  thy  feeble  chant, 
Here,  if  at  all  beneath  the  moon, 
Is  holy  David's  haunt. 


$6         SECOND  SUNDAY 

Art  thou  a  child  of  tears, 
Cradled  in  care  and  woe  ? 
And  seems  it  hard,  thy  vernal  years 
Few  vernal  joys  can  shew  ? 

And  fall  the  sounds  of  mirth 
Sad  on  thy  lonely  heart, 
From  all  the  hopes  and  charms  of  earth 
Untimely  called  to  part  ? 

Look  here,  and  hold  thy  peace : 
The  Giver  of  all  good 
Even  from  the  womb  takes  no  release 
From  suffering,  tears,  and  blood. 

If  thou  wouldst  reap  in  love, 
First  sow  in  holy  fear: 
So  life  a  winter's  morn  may  prove 
To  a  bright  endless  year. 

SECOND  SUNDAY  AFTER 
CHRISTMAS 

When  the  poor  and  needy  seek  water,  and  there  is 
none,  and  their  tongue  faileth  for  thirst,  I  the  Lord 
will  hear  them,  I  the  God  of  Israel  will  not  forsake 
them. — Isaiah  xli.  17. 

THE  PILGRIM'S  SONG.     Nov.  29,  1825. 
Life  is  a  weary  pilgrimage  for  the  sinner,  but  God 
can  give  comfort  to  it  as  He  did  to  Hagar  and  to  the 
Israelites   at    Horeb,   and   Jesus,   who    Himself   knew 
weariness,  can  bless  our  weary  hours. 

A  ND  wilt  Thou  hear  the  fevered  heart 

To  Thee  in  silence  cry  ? 
And  as  the  inconstant  wildfires  dart 
Out  of  the  restless  eye, 


AFTER  CHRISTMAS        37 

Wilt  Thou  forgive  the  wayward  thought, 
By  kindly  woes  yet  half  untaught 
A  Saviour's  right,  so  dearly  bought, 
That  Hope  should  never  die  ? 

Thou  wilt :  for  many  a  languid  prayer 
Has  reached  Thee  from  the  wild, 

Since  the  lorn  mother,  wandering  there, 
Cast  down  her  fainting  child,1 

Then  stole  apart  to  weep  and  die, 

Nor  knew  an  angel  form  was  nigh 

To  shew  soft  waters  gushing  by 
And  dewy  shadows  mild. 

Thou  wilt — for  Thou  art  Israel's  God, 

And  Thine  unwearied  arm 
Is  ready  yet  with  Moses'  rod 

The  hidden  rill  to  charm 
Out  of  the  dry  unfathomed  deep 
Of  sands,  that  lie  in  lifeless  sleep, 
Save  when  the  scorching  whirlwinds  heap 

Their  waves  in  rude  alarm. 

These  moments  of  wild  wrath  are  Thine — 

Thine  too  the  drearier  hour 
When  o'er  the  horizon's  silent  line 

Fond  hopeless  fancies  cower, 
And  on  the  traveller's  listless  way 
Rises  and  sets  the  unchanging  day, 
No  cloud  in  heaven  to  slake  its  ray, 

On  earth  no  sheltering  bower. 

1  Hagar.     See  Genesis  xxi.  15. 


38         SECOND  SUNDAY 

Thou  wilt  be  there,  and  not  forsake, 

To  turn  the  bitter  pool 
Into  a  bright  and  breezy  lake, 

The  throbbing  brow  to  cool  : 
Till  left  a  while  with  Thee  alone 
The  wilful  heart  be  fain  to  own 
That  He,  by  whom  our  bright  hours  shone, 

Our  darkness  best  may  rule. 

The  scent  of  water  far  away 

Upon  the  breeze  is  flung  : 
The  desert  pelican  to-day 

Securely  leaves  her  young, 
Reproving  thankless  man,  who  fears 
To  journey  on  a  few  lone  years, 
Where  on  the  sand  Thy  step  appears, 

Thy  crown  in  sight  is  hung. 

Thou,  who  didst  sit  on  Jacob's  well 

The  weary  hour  of  noon,1 
The  languid  pulses  Thou  canst  tell, 

The  nerveless  spirit  tune. 
Thou  from  Whose  cross  in  anguish  burst 
The  cry  that  owned  Thy  dying  thirst,2 
To  Thee  we  turn,  our  Last  and  First, 

Our  Sun  and  soothing  Moon. 

From  darkness,  here,  and  dreariness 

We  ask  not  full  repose, 
Only  be  Thou  at  hand,  to  bless 

Our  trial  hour  of  woes. 

1  S.  John  iv.  6.  2  S.  John  xix.  28. 


AFTER  CHRISTMAS        39 

Is  not  the  pilgrim's  toil  o'erpaid 
By  the  clear  rill  and  palmy  shade  ? 
And  see  we  not,  up  Earth's  dark  glade, 
The  gate  of  Heaven  unclose  ? 


THE  EPIPHANY 

And,  lo,  the  star,  which  they  saw  in  the  east,  went 
before  them,  till  it  came  and  stood  over  where  the 
young  child  was.  When  they  saw  the  star,  they 
rejoiced  with  exceeding  great  joy.  S.  Matthew  ii. 
9,   10. 

THE  EPIPHANY.     Jan.  20,  1824. 

The  Gentile  Magi — the  representatives  of  heathen 
religion  which  once  knew  God,  which  then  turned 
aside  into  self-chosen  ways,  but  at  last,  ashamed  of  her 
idolatries,  came  back  to  Christ,  is  a  type  of  the  soul 
which  in  childhood  is  easily  drawn  by  the  teaching  of 
parents  and  of  Nature  to  faith  in  God,  but  in  the  glare 
of  grown-up  life  has  difficulty  in  finding  His  Presence, 
yet  at  last  in  old  age  finds  Him  once  more.  Yet  their 
lavish  offerings  put  our  poor  sacrifices  to  shame. 

This  poem  should  be  compared  with  those  for  the 
Twenty-second  Sunday  after  Trinity,  and  for  S.  Philip 
and  S.  James's  day :  they  all  seem  influenced  by  the 
thought  of  Wordsworth's  Ode  :  "  Intimations  of  Im. 
mortality  from  recollections  of  early  childhood." 

CTAR  of  the  East,  how  sweet  art  Thou, 

Seen  in  life's  early  morning  sky, 
Ere  yet  a  cloud  has  dimmed  the  brow, 
While  yet  we  gaze  with  childish  eye ; 

When  father,  mother,  nursing  friend, 
Most  dearly  loved,  and  loving  best, 

First  bid  us  from  their  arms  ascend, 
Pointing  to  Thee  in  Thy  sure  rest. 


4o  THE  EPIPHANY 

Too  soon  the  glare  of  earthly  day 
Buries,  to  us,  Thy  brightness  keen, 

And  we  are  left  to  find  our  way 
By  faith  and  hope  in  Thee  unseen. 

What  matter  ?  if  the  waymarks  sure 
On  every  side  are  round  us  set, 

Soon  overleaped,  but  not  obscure  ? 
'Tis  ours  to  mark  them  or  forget. 

What  matter  ?  if  in  calm  old  age 
Our  childhood's  star  again  arise, 

Crowning  our  lonely  pilgrimage 

With  all  that  cheers  a  wanderer's  eyes  ? 

Ne'er  may  we  lose  it  from  our  sight, 
Till  all  our  hopes  and  thoughts  are  led 

To  where  it  stays  its  lucid  flight 
Over  our  Saviour's  lowly  bed. 

There,  swathed  in  humblest  poverty, 
On  Chastity's  meek  lap  enshrined, 

With  breathless  Reverence  waiting  by, 
When  we  our  sovereign  Master  find, 

Will  not  the  long-forgotten  glow 
Of  mingled  joy  and  awe  return, 

When  stars  above  or  flowers  below 
First  made  our  infant  spirits  bum  ? 

Look  on  us,  Lord,  and  take  our  parts 
Even  on  Thy  throne  of  purity  ! 

From  these  our  proud  yet  grovelling  hearts 
Hide  not  Thy  mild  forgiving  eye. 


THE  EPIPHANY  41 

Did  not  the  Gentile  Church  find  grace, 
Our  mother  dear,  this  favoured  day? 

With  gold  and  myrrh  she  sought  Thy  face, 
Nor  didst  Thou  turn  Thy  face  away. 

She  too,1  in  earlier,  purer  days, 

Had  watched  Thee  gleaming  faint  and  far — 
But  wandering  in  self-chosen  ways 

She  lost  Thee  quite,  Thou  lovely  star. 

Yet  had  her  Father's  finger  turned 
To  Thee  her  first  inquiring  glance  : 

The  deeper  shame  within  her  burned, 
When  wakened  from  her  wilful  trance. 

Behold,  her  wisest  throng  Thy  gate, 
Their  richest,  sweetest,  purest  store 

(Yet  owned  too  worthless  and  too  late) 
They  lavish  on  Thy  cottage-floor. 

They  give  their  best — O  tenfold  shame 

On  us  their  fallen  progeny, 
Who  sacrifice  the  blind  and  lame  2 — 

Who  will  not  wake  or  fast  with  thee ! 

1  The  Patriarchal  Church.— J.  K. 

2  Malachi  i.  8.  And  if  ye  offer  the  blind  for  sacrifice, 
is  it  not  evil  ?  and  if  ye  offer  the  lame  and  sick,  is  it  not 
evil? 


42  FIRST  SUNDAY 


FIRST  SUNDAY  AFTER  EPIPHANY 

They  shall  spring  up  as  among  the  grass,  as  willows 
by  the  water  courses. — Isaiah  xliv.  4. 

THE  NIGHTINGALE.     May  17,  1824. 

The  simplest  scenes  of  Nature,  the  willow  bower  or 
the  nightingale,  are  sufficient  to  tell  of  God  and  to  teach 
contentment,  trust,  and  praise. 

"  The  scenery  of  these  verses  is  taken  from  the  walk 
to  Coin  S.  Aldwyn's  about  three  miles  from  Fairford, 
on  the  banks  of  the  river  Coin,  which  is  shaded  with 
willow  trees." — Miss  Yonge.  "Musings  on  the  Chris- 
tian Year." 

Compare  G.  J.  Cornish,  "  Come  to  the  Woods,  and 
other  Poems,"  p.  85,  who  seems  to  allude  to  Keble  in 
the  sonnet  which  begins — 

"  Even  as  ye  sung  elsewhile  by  Cherwell's  stream 
When  from  the  very  mouth  of  that  high  sage 
Whom  God  ordains  to  rouse  a  laggard  age, 
I  learnt  that  Nature  would  not  have  us  dream 
Our  sullen  hours  away ;  such  here  your  song, 
Sweet  Nightingales." 

[    ESSONS  sweet  of  spring  returning, 
Welcome  to  the  thoughtful  heart ! 
May  I  call  ye  sense  or  learning, 

Instinct  pure,  or  Heaven-taught  art  ? 
Be  your  title  what  it  may, 
Sweet  the  lengthening  April  day, 
While  with  you  the  soul  is  free, 
Ranging  wild  o'er  hill  and  lea. 

Soft  as  Memnon's  harp  at  morning, 

To  the  inward  ear  devout, 
Touched  by  light,  with  heavenly  warning 

Your  transporting  chords  ring  out. 


AFTER  EPIPHANY         43 

Every  leaf  in  every  nook, 
Every  wave  in  every  brook, 
Chanting  with  a  solemn  voice, 
Minds  us  of  our  better  choice. 

Needs  no  show  of  mountain  hoary, 

Winding  shore  or  deepening  glen, 
Where  the  landscape  in  its  glory 

Teaches  truth  to  wandering  men  : 
Give  true  hearts  but  earth  and  sky, 
And  some  flowers  to  bloom  and  die, — 
Homely  scenes  and  simple  views 
Lowly  thoughts  may  best  infuse. 

See  the  soft  green  willow  springing 
Where  the  waters  gently  pass, 

Every  way  her  free  arms  flinging 
O'er  the  moist  and  reedy  grass. 

Long  ere  winter  blasts  are  fled, 

See  her  tipped  with  vernal  red, 

And  her  kindly  flower  displayed 

Ere  her  leaf  can  cast  a  shade. 

Though  the  rudest  hand  assail  her, 

Patiently  she  droops  awhile, 
But  when  showers  and  breezes  hail  her, 

Wears  again  her  willing  smile. 
Thus  I  learn  Contentment's  power 
From  the  slighted  willow  bower, 
Ready  to  give  thanks  and  live 
On  the  least  that  Heaven  may  give. 

If,  the  quiet  brooklet  leaving, 

Up  the  stony  vale  I  wind, 
Haply  half  in  fancy  grieving 

For  the  shades  I  leave  behind, 


44         SECOND  SUNDAY 

By  the  dusty  wayside  drear, 
Nightingales  with  joyous  cheer 
Sing,  my  sadness  to  reprove, 
Gladlier  than  in  cultured  grove. 

Where  the  thickest  boughs  are  twining 

Of  the  greenest  darkest  tree, 
There  they  plunge,  the  light  declining- 
All  may  hear,  but  none  may  see. 
Fearless  of  the  passing  hoof, 
Hardly  will  they  fleet  aloof; 
So  they  live  in  modest  ways, 
Trust  entire,  and  ceaseless  praise. 


SECOND  SUNDAY  AFTER 
EPIPHANY 

Every  man  at  the  beginning  doth  set  forth  good 
wine ;  and  when  men  have  well  drunk,  then  that  which 
is  worse:  but  thou  hast  kept  the  good  wine  until  now. 
S.  John  ii.  10. 

THE  SECRET  OF  PERPETUAL  YOUTH. 
1820  or  1821. 

The  bright  joys  of  childhood  fade  quickly  if  we 
follow  the  world's  guidance,  but  Christ  purifies  them 
all ;  He  keeps  hope  keen  to  the  end  and  makes  love 
eternal.  Hence  the  richest,  tenderest  glow  of  all  is 
found  on  old  age,  and  even  beyond  the  grave  there  is  a 
greater  bliss  of  which  we  cannot  know  here. 

'"THE  heart  of  childhood  is  all  mirth  : 

We  frolic  to  and  fro 
As  free  and  blithe,  as  if  on  earth 

Were  no  such  thing  as  woe. 


AFTER  EPIPHANY         45 

But  if  indeed  with  reckless  faith 
We  trust  the  flattering  voice, 

Which  whispers,  "  Take  thy  fill  ere  death, 
Indulge  thee  and  rejoice  ;  M 

Too  surely,  every  setting  day, 

Some  lost  delight  we  mourn, 
The  flowers  all  die  along  our  way, 

Till  we,  too,  die  forlorn. 

Such  is  the  world's  gay  garish  feast,1 

In  her  first  charming  bowl 
Infusing  all  that  fires  the  breast, 

And  cheats  the  unstable  soul. 

And  still,  as  loud  the  revel  swells, 
The  fevered  pulse  beats  higher, 

Till  the  seared  taste  from  foulest  wells 
Is  fain  to  slake  its  fire. 

Unlike  the  feast  of  heavenly  Love 
Spread  at  the  Saviour's  word 

For  souls  that  hear  His  call,  and  prove 
Meet  for  His  bridal  board. 

Why  should  we  fear,  youth's  draught  of  joy, 

If  pure,  would  sparkle  less  ? 
Why  should  the  cup  the  sooner  cloy, 

Which  God  hath  deigned  to  bless  ? 

1  "Garish,"  i.e.    gaudy,   showy.     Cf.   "Romeo  and 
Juliet :  "  Act  iii.  sc.  2  : 

"  And  pay  no  worship  to  the  garish  sun." 
"  II  Penseroso":  1.  141. 

"Hide  me  from  day's  garish  eye." 


46         SECOND  SUNDAY 

For  is  it  Hope,  that  thrills  so  keen 

Along  each  bounding  vein, 
Still  whispering  glorious  things  unseen  ? — 

Faith  makes  the  vision  plain. 

The  world  would  kill  her  soon :   but  Faith 
Her  daring  dreams  will  cherish, 

Speeding  her  gaze  o'er  time  and  death 
To  realms  where  nought  can  perish. 

Or  is  it  Love,  the  dear  delight 

Of  hearts  that  know  no  guile, 

That  all  around  see  all  things  bright 
With  their  own  magic  smile  ? 

The  silent  joy,  that  sinks  so  deep, 

Of  confidence  and  rest, 
Lulled  in  a  Father's  arms  to  sleep, 

Clasped  to  a  Mother's  breast  ? 

Who,  but  a  Christian,  through  all  life 

That  blessing  may  prolong  ? 
Who,  through  the  world's  sad  day  of  strife, 

Still  chant  his  morning  song  ? 

Fathers  may  hate  us  or  forsake, 

God's  foundlings  then  are  we : 

Mother  on  child  no  pity  take,1 

But  we  shall  still  have  Thee. 

We  may  look  home,  and  seek  in  vain 

A  fond  fraternal  heart, 
But  Christ  hath  given  His  promise  plain 

To  do  a  Brother's  part. 
1  Can  a  woman  forget  her  sucking  child,  that  she 
should  not  have  compassion  on  the  son  of  her  womb  ? 
yea,    they    may   forget,   yet   will    I    not    forget   thee. 
Isaiah  xlix.  15.      Cf.  Ps.  xxvii.  10. 


AFTER  EPIPHANY         47 

Nor  shall  dull  age,  as  worldlings  say, 
The  heavenward  flame  annoy  : 

The  Saviour  cannot  pass  away, 
And  with  Him  lives  our  joy. 

Ever  the  richest  tenderest  glow 

Sets  round  the  autumnal  sun — 

But  there  sight  fails  :  no  heart  may  know 
The  bliss  when  life  is  done. 

Such  is  Thy  banquet,  dearest  Lord  ; 

O  give  us  grace  to  cast 
Our  lot  with  Thine,  to  trust  Thy  word, 

And  keep  our  best  till  last. 

THIRD  SUNDAY  AFTER  EPIPHANY 

When  Jesus  heard  it,  He  marvelled,  and  said  to 
them  that  followed,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  I  have  not 
found  so  great  faith,  no,  not  in  Israel.  S.  Matthew 
viii.  10. 

THE  GOOD  CENTURION.     1824. 

The  story  of  the  Gentile  centurion  with  his  humble 
faith  in  Christ,  with  the  prayers  of  the  Jews  on  his 
behalf  in  return  for  his  love  to  them  and  for  his  active 
kindness  in  building  a  synagogue,  serves  as  a  reminder 
to  the  Pastor  (i.)  of  the  deep  but  humble  shrinking 
faith  oft  to  be  found  where  least  expected,  and  which 
is  more  cheering  than  even  the  sight  of  a  rainbow  in  a 
gloomy  sky  or  the  song  of  a  lark  on  a  dull  plain  :  (ii.) 
of  the  power  of  the  prayers  of  the  poor :  (iii.)  of  the 
gift  of  art  in  Christ's  honour,  and  Christ's  willingness 
to  accept  all  offerings  inspired  by  love. 

J  MARKED  a  rainbow  in  the  north, 
What  time  the  wild  autumnal  sun 
From  his  dark  veil  at  noon  looked  forth, 
As  glorying  in  his  course  half  done, 


48  THIRD  SUNDAY 

Flinging  soft  radiance  far  and  wide 
Over  the  dusky  heaven  and  bleak  hillside. 

It  was  a  gleam  to  Memory  dear, 
And  as  I  walk  and  muse  apart, 

When  all  seems  faithless  round  and  drear, 
I  would  revive  it  in  my  heart, 

And  watch  how  light  can  find  its  way 
To  regions  farthest  from  the  fount  of  day. 

Light  flashes  in  the  gloomiest  sky, 
And  Music  in  the  dullest  plain, 

For  there  the  lark  is  soaring  high 
Over  her  flat  and  leafless  reign, 

And  chanting  in  so  blithe  a  tone, 
It  shames  the  weary  heart  to  feel  itself  alone. 

Brighter  than  rainbow  in  the  north, 
More  cheery  than  the  matin  lark, 
Is  the  soft  gleam  of  Christian  worth, 

Which  on  some  holy  house  we  mark ; 
Dear  to  the  Pastor's  aching  heart 
To  think,  where'er  he  looks,  such  gleam  may 
have  a  part ; 

May  dwell,  unseen  by  all  but  Heaven, 
Like  diamond  blazing  in  the  mine ; 

For  ever,  where  such  grace  is  given, 
It  fears  in  open  day  to  shine ; 1 

Lest  the  deep  stain  it  owns  within 
Break  out,  and  Faith  be  shamed  by  the  believer's 


1  Lord,  I   am  not  worthy  that  thou  shouldest  enter 
under  my  roof.     S.  Luke  vii.  6. 

"  From  the  first  time  that  the  impression  of  religion 


AFTER  EPIPHANY         49 

In  silence  and  afar  they  wait, 

To  find  a  prayer  their  Lord  may  hear : 
Voice  of  the  poor  and  desolate, 

You  best  may  bring  it  to  His  ear. 
Your  grateful  intercessions  rise 
With   more  than  royal  pomp,   and   pierce  the 
skies. 

Happy  the  soul,  whose  precious  cause 

You  in  the  sovereign  Presence  plead — 
"  This  is  the  lover  of  Thy  laws,1 

The  friend  of  Thine  in  fear  and  need  " — 
For  to  the  poor  Thy  mercy  lends 
That    solemn    style,    "  Thy    nation    and    Thy 
friends." 

He  too  is  blest,  whose  outward  eye 

The  graceful  lines  of  art  may  trace, 
While  his  free  spirit,  soaring  high, 

Discerns  the  glorious  from  the  base ; 
Till  out  of  dust  his  magic  raise  2 
A   home   for    Prayer  and  Love  and  full  har- 
monious Praise, 

settled  deeply  in  his  mind,  he  used  great  caution  to  con- 
ceal it ;  not  only  in  obedience  to  the  rule  given  by  our 
Saviour,  of  fasting,  praying,  and  giving  alms  in  secret, 
but  from  a  particular  distrust  he  had  of  himself:  for  he 
said  he  was  afraid  he  should  at  some  time  or  other  do 
some  enormous  thing,  which,  if  he  were  looked  on  as  a 
very  religious  man,  might  cast  a  reproach  on  the  pro- 
fession of  it,  and  give  great  advantages  to  impious  men 
to  blaspheme  the  name  of  God."  Burnet's  "  Life  of 
Hale  "  (Wordsworth's  Eccl.  Biog.  vi.  73).— J.  K. 

1  He  loveth  our  nation.     S.  Luke  vii.  5. 

2  He  hath  built  us  a  synagogue.     S.  Luke  vii.  5. 

D 


5o  THIRD  SUNDAY 

Where  far  away  and  high  above, 
In  maze  on  maze  the  tranced  sight 

Strays,  mindful  of  that  heavenly  Love 
Which  knows  no  end  in  depth  or  height, 

While  the  strong  breath  of  Music  seems 
To  waft  us  ever  on,  soaring  in  blissful  dreams. 

What  though  in  poor  and  humble  guise 

Thou  here  didst  sojourn,  cottage-born  ? 
Yet  from  Thy  glory  in  the  skies 

Our  earthly  gold  Thou  dost  not  scorn. 
For  Love  delights  to  bring  her  best, 
And  where  Love  is,  that  offering  evermore  is 
blest. 

Love  on  the  Saviour's  dying  head 

Her  spikenard  drops  unblamed  may  pour, 
May  mount  His  Cross  and  wrap  Him  dead 

In  spices  from  the  golden  shore  ; 1 
Risen,  may  embalm  His  Sacred  Name 
With  all  a  Painter's  art,  and   all   a  Minstrel's 
flame. 

Worthless  and  lost  our  offerings  seem, 

Drops  in  the  ocean  of  His  praise  ; 
But  Mercy  with  her  genial  beam 

Is  ripening  them  to  pearly  blaze,2 
To  sparkle  in  His  crown  above, 
Who  welcomes  here  a  child's  as  there  an  angel's 
love. 

1  S.  John  xii.  7  ;  xix.  30. 

2  The  language  seems  influenced  by  the  Persian  fable 
quoted  in  The  Spectator,  No.  293.  "  A  drop  of  water 
fell  out  of  a  cloud  into  the  sea,  and  finding  itself  lost  in 
such  an  immensity  of  fluid  matter,  broke  out  into  the 
following  reflection  :    '  Alas !    What  an  inconsiderable 


AFTER  EPIPHANY         51 

FOURTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
EPIPHANY 

When  they  saw  Him,  they  besought  Him  that  He 
would  depart  out  of  their  coasts.     S.  Matthew  viii.  34. 

THE  WORLD  IS  FOR  EXCITEMENT,  THE 
GOSPEL  FOR  SOOTHING.  Dec.  19,  1825. 
God's  power  and  love  are  shown  in  His  control  of  the 
wild  forces  of  Nature,  but  even  more  in  His  control  of 
the  passions  of  the  human  heart.  Yet,  strangely,  man's 
wayward  heart  wishes  his  deliverer  away,  and  turns 
back  to  earthly  passions.  When  this  is  so,  God's  love 
does  not  desert  him,  but  wins  him  back  to  the  gospel 
by  the  sights  of  Nature. 

Miss  Yonge  would  see  in  "Souls  of  highest  birth 
wasting  their  impassioned  might  on  dreams  of  earth" 
an  allusion  to  Byron's  poetry,  and  in  the  last  lines  a 
hope  that  he  might  be  drawn  back  to  Christ.  The 
poem  for  Palm  Sunday  might  bear  this  out,  but  may 
not  the  allusion  rather  be  to  Wordsworth's  change, 
when  he  had  been  led  back  from  his  wild  republican 
dreams  and  spiritual  perplexity  into  faith  and  peace  by 
his  intercourse  with  Nature  ?  The  last  lines  read  like 
a  fact  rather  than  a  hope,  and  Wordsworth  had  come 
to  recognise — 

"  In  nature  and  the  language  of  the  sense 
The  anchor  of  my  purest  thoughts,  the  nurse, 
The  guide,  the  guardian  of  my  heart,  and  soul 
Of  all  my  moral  being." 

"THEY  know  the  Almighty's  power, 

Who,  wakened  by  the  rushing  mid- 
night shower, 
Watch  for  the  fitful  breeze 
To  howl  and  chafe  amid  the  bending  trees, 
creature  am  I  in  this  prodigious  ocean  of  waters !     My 
existence  is  of  no  concern  to  the  universe  ;  I  am  reduced 
to  a  kind  of  nothing  and  am  less  than  the  least  of  the 
works  of  God.'     It  so  happened  that  an  oyster,  which 
lay  in  the  neighbourhood  of  this  drop,  chanced  to  gape 


5%         FOURTH  SUNDAY 

Watch  for  the  still  white  gleam 
To  bathe  the  landscape  in  a  fiery  stream, 
Touching    the    tremulous    eye  with    sense  of 
light 
Too  rapid  and  too  pure  for  all  but  angel  sight. 

They  know  the  Almighty's  love, 
Who,  when  the  whirlwinds  rock  the  topmost 
grove, 
Stand  in  the  shade,  and  hear 
The  tumult  with  a  deep  exulting  fear, 

How,  in  their  fiercest  sway, 
Curbed  by  some  power  unseen,  they  die  awav, 
Like  a  bold  steed  that  owns  his  rider's  arm, 
Proud  to  be  checked  and  soothed  by  that  over- 
mastering charm. 

But  there  are  storms  within 
That  heave  the  struggling  heart  with  wilder 
din, 
And  there  is  power  and  love 
The  maniac's  rushing  frenzy  to  reprove, 

And  when  he  takes  his  seat, 
Clothed    and    in    calmness,  at  His  Saviour's 

feet,1 
Is  not  the  power  as  strange,  the  love  as  blest, 
As  when  He  said,  Be  still,  and  ocean  sank  to 

rest  ? 
and  swallow  it  up  in  the  midst  of  this  its  humble 
soliloquy.  The  drop,  says  the  fable,  lay  a  great 
while  hardening  in  the  shell,  until  by  degrees  it  was 
ripened  into  a  pearl,  which  falling  into  the  hands  of  a 
diver,  after  a  long-  series  of  adventures,  is  at  present 
that  famous  pearl  which  is  fixed  on  the  top  of  the 
Persian  diadem." 

1  S.  Mark  v.  15  ;   iv    39. 


AFTER  EPIPHANY         53 

Woe  to  the  wayward  heart, 
That    gladlier    turns    to    eye   the  shuddering 
start 
Of  Passion  in  her  might, 
Than  marks  the  silent  growth  of  grace  and 
light  ;— 
Pleased  in  the  cheerless  tomb 
To  linger,  while  the  morning  rays  illume 
Green  lake,  and  cedar  tuft,  and  spicy  glade, 
Shaking  their  dewy  tresses  now  the  storm  is  laid. 

The  storm  is  laid  ;  and  now 
In  His  meek  power  He  climbs  the  mountain's 
brow, 
Who  bade  the  waves  go  sleep, 
And  lashed  the  vexed  fiends  to  their  yawning 
deep. 
How  on  a  rock  they  stand, 
Who  watch  His  eye,  and  hold  His  guiding 

hand  ! 
Not  half  so  fixed  amid  her  vassal  hills, 
Rises  the  holy  pile  that  Kedron's  valley  fills. 

And  wilt  thou  seek  again 
Thy  howling  waste,  thy  charnel-house  and 
chain, 
And  with  the  demons  be, 
Rather  than  clasp  thine  own  Deliverer's  knee  ? 

Sure  'tis  no  Heaven-bred  awe 
That  bids  thee  from  His  healing  touch  with- 
draw. 
The  world  and  He  are  struggling   in   thine 
heart, 
And  in  thy  reckless  mood  thou  bidst  thy  Lord 
depart. 


54  FIFTH  SUNDAY 

He,  merciful  and  mild, 
As  erst,  beholding,  loves  His  wayward  child  ; 

When  souls  of  highest  birth 
Waste  their  impassioned  might  on  dreams  of 
earth, 
He  opens  Nature's  book, 
And  on  His  glorious  Gospel  bids  them  look, 
Till  by  such  chords,  as  rule  the  choirs  above, 
Their  lawless  cries  are  tuned  to  hymns  of  perfect 
Love. 

FIFTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EPIPHANY 

Behold,  the  Lord's  hand  is  not  shortened,  that  it 
cannot  save ;  neither  His  ear  heavy,  that  it  cannot 
hear:  but  your  iniquities  have  separated  between  you 
and  your  God.     Isaiah  lix.  I,  2. 

CURE  SIN  AND  YOU  CURE  SORROW. 
May  9,  1826. 
Often  we  cry  for  God  to  aid  us,  when  really  we  are 
only  desiring  some  lost  pleasure ;  He  is  really  with  us 
in  our  necessities  as  surely  as  He  was  with  S.  Philip 
and  the  eunuch  in  the  desert,  when  the  eunuch  learnt 
the  true  peace  which  the  world  cannot  give,  and  which 
springs  from  the  sense  of  sin  forgiven.  That  peace 
only  sin  can  destroy,  and  penitence  for  sin  may  win  it 
back  and  give  us  power  to  intercede  for  others. 

"  \A/ AKE,  arm  divine  !   awake, 
Eye  of  the  only  Wise  ! 
Now  for  Thy  glory's  sake, 
Saviour  and  God,  arise, 
And  may  Thine  ear,  that  sealed  seems, 
In  pity  mark  our  mournful  themes  !  "  J 
1  "  Arm  of  the  Lord,  awake, 

Put  on  thine  ancient  strength  ; 

O  for  Thy  glory's  sake 

Arouse  thee,  Lord,  at  length. "— MSS. 


AFTER  EPIPHANY         $5 

Thus  in  her  lonely  hour 

Thy  Church  is  fain  to  cry, 
As  if  Thy  love  and  power 
Were  vanished  from  her  sky ; 
Yet  God  is  there,  and  at  His  side 
He  triumphs  Who  for  sinners  died. 

Ah  !   'tis  the  world  enthralls 

The  Heaven-betrothed  breast : 
The  traitor  Sense  recalls 
The  soaring  soul  from  rest. 
That  bitter  sigh  was  all  for  earth, 
For  glories  gone,  and  vanished  mirth. 

Age  would  to  youth  return, 

Farther  from  Heaven  would  be, 
To  feel  the  wildfire  burn, 
On  idolising  knee 
Again  to  fall,  and  rob  Thy  shrine 
Of  hearts,  the  right  of  Love  divine. 

Lord  of  this  erring  flock  !  1 

Thou  whose  soft  showers  distil 
On  ocean  waste  or  rock, 
Free  as  on  Hermon  hill, 
Do  Thou  our  craven  spirits  cheer, 
And  shame  away  the  selfish  tear. 

'Twas  silent  all  and  dead  2 

Beside  the  barren  sea, 
Where  Philip's  steps  were  led — 
Led  by  a  voice  from  Thee  ; 

1  "  Lord  of  this  erring  flock : "  "  our  wildering 
flock."— MSS.  "This  wandering  flock."— Ed.  I.  Com- 
pare p.  84,  note. 

2  See  Acts  viii.  26-40. 


56  FIFTH  SUNDAY 

He  rose  and  went,  nor  asked  Thee  why, 
Nor  stayed  to  heave  one  faithless  sigh  ; 

Upon  his  lonely  way 

The  high-born  traveller  came, 
Reading  a  mournful  lay 

Of  "  One  Who  bore  our  shame, 
Silent  Himself,  His  Name  untold, 
And  yet  His  glories  were  of  old."  l 

To  muse  what  Heaven  might  mean 
His  wondering  brow  He  raised, 
And  met  an  eye  serene 

That  on  him  watchful  gazed. 
No  hermit  e'er  so  welcome  crossed 
A  child's  lone  path  in  woodland  lost. 

Now  wonder  turns  to  Love  ; 
The  scrolls  of  sacred  lore 
No  darksome  mazes  prove ; 
The  desert  tires  no  more : 
They  bathe  where  holy  waters  flow, 
Then  on  their  way  rejoicing  go. 

They  part  to  meet  in  Heaven  : 

But  of  the  joy  they  share, 
Absolving  and  forgiven, 

The  sweet  remembrance  bear. 
Yes — mark  him  well,  ye  cold  and  proud 
Bewildered  in  a  heartless  crowd,2 

1  Isaiah  liii.  6-8. 

2  "  Never  again  that  statesman  proud 

Felt  lonely  in  a  heartless  crowd." 


AFTER  EPIPHANY         57 

Starting  and  turning  pale 1 

At  Rumour's  angry  din — 
No  storm  can  now  assail 

The  charm  he  wears  within, 
Rejoicing  still  and  doing  good, 
And  with  the  thought  of  God  imbued. 

No  glare  of  high  estate, 

No  gloom  of  woe  or  want, 
The  radiance  can  abate 

Where  Heaven  delights  to  haunt ; 
Sin  only  hides  the  genial  ray, 
And,  round  the  Cross,  makes  night  of  day. 

Then  weep  it  from  thy  heart ; 

So  mayst  thou  duly  learn 
The  intercessor's  part, 

Thy  prayers  and  tears  may  earn 
For  fallen  souls  some  healing  breath, 
Ere  they  have  died  the  Apostate's  death.2 

SIXTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EPIPHANY 

Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and  it  doth 
not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be :  but  we  know  that, 
when  He  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  Him  ;  for  we 
shall  see  Him  as  He  is.      1  S.  John  iii.  2. 

THE  BENEFITS  OF  UNCERTAINTY.     1824. 
As  in  war  and  love,  that  gives  us  most  happiness  for 
which  we  have  taken  most  effort,  and  about  the  issue 

1  "  Never  again  turned  pale 

At  Rumour's  angry  din — 
Nor  storms  nor  foes  assail 

The  charm  he  wears  within." — MSS. 

2  "  God's  mercy  on  some  erring  child 

In  ways  of  death  now  wandering  wild." — MSS. 


$S  SIXTH  SUNDAY 

of  which  we  have  felt  most  anxiety,  so  in  religion  we 
need  constant  effort,  never  resting  on  assurance,  but 
pressing  on  beyond  earthly  to  divine  conceptions  of 
heaven. 

'"THERE  arc,  who  darkling  and  alone, 

Would  wish  the  weary  night  were  gone, 
Though  dawning  morn  should  only  shew 
The  secret  of  their  unknown  woe  : 
Who  pray  for  sharpest  throbs  of  pain 
To  ease  them  of  doubt's  galling  chain  : 
"  Only  disperse  the  cloud, "  they  cry, 
"  And  if  our  fate  be  death,  give  light  and  let  us 
die."  i 

Unwise  I  deem  them,  Lord,  unmeet 
To  profit  by  Thy  chastenings  sweet, 
For  thou  wouldst  have  us  linger  still 
Upon  the  verge  of  good  or  ill, 
That  on  Thy  guiding  hand  unseen 
Our  undivided  hearts  may  lean, 
And  this  our  frail  and  foundering  bark 
Glide  in  the  narrow  wake  of  Thy  beloved  ark. 

'Tis  so  in  war— the  champion  true 
Loves  victory  more,  when  dim  in  view 
He  sees  her  glories  gild  afar 
The  dusky  edge  of  stubborn  war, 
Than  if  the  untrodden  bloodless  field 
The  harvest  of  her  laurels  yield  ; 
Let  not  my  bark  in  calm  abide, 
But  win  her  fearless  way  against  the  chafing  tide. 

1  iv  bk  (pdet  teal  6\e<T<rov.  Horn.  II.  xvii.  647. 
The  prayer  of  Ajax  to  Zeus  to  remove  the  heavy  cloud 
that  hung  over  the  battlefield.  The  words  are  quoted 
again  in  Keble's  "  Eucharistical  Adoration,"  v.  2. 


AFTER  EPIPHANY         59 

'Tis  so  in  love — the  faithful  heart 
From  her  dim  vision  would  not  part, 
When  first  to  her  fond  gaze  is  given 
That  purest  spot  in  Fancy's  heaven, 
For  all  the  gorgeous  sky  beside, 
Though  pledged  her  own  and  sure  to  abide  : 
Dearer  than  every  past  noon-day 
That  twilight  gleam  to  her,  though  faint  and  far 
away. 

So  have  I  seen  some  tender  flower 
Prized  above  all  the  vernal  bower, 
Sheltered  beneath  the  coolest  shade, 
Embosomed  in  the  greenest  glade, 
So  frail  a  gem,  it  scarce  may  bear 
The  playful  touch  of  evening  air  ;  * 
When  hardier  grown  we  love  it  less, 
And  trust  it  from  our  sight,  not  needing  our 
caress. 

And  wherefore  is  the  sweet  springtide 
Worth  all  the  changeful  year  beside  ? 
The  last-born  babe,  why  lies  its  part 
Deep  in  the  mother's  inmost  heart  ? 
But  that  the  Lord  and  source  of  love 
Would  have  His  weakest  ever  prove 
Our  tenderest  care — and  most  of  all 
Our  frail  immortal  souls,  His  work  and  Satan's 
thrall. 

So  be  it,  Lord;   I  know  it  best, 
Though  not  as  yet  this  wayward  breast 

1  M  The  daintiest,  frailest,  dearest  thing 

That  ever  brushed  an  insect's  wing." — K.  MS. 


60  SIXTH  SUNDAY 

Beat  quite  in  answer  to  Thy  voice ; 
Yet  surely  I  have  made  my  choice ; 
I  know  not  yet  the  promised  bliss, 
Know  not  if  I  shall  win  or  miss ; 
So  doubting,  rather  let  me  die, 
Than  close  with  aught  beside,  to  last  eternally. 

What  is  the  heaven  we  idly  dream  ? 
The  self-deceiver's  dreary  theme, 
A  cloudless  sun  that  softly  shines, 
Bright  maidens  and  unfailing  vines, 
The  warrior's  pride,  the  hunter's  mirth, 
Poor  fragments  all  of  this  low  earth  : 
Such  as  in  sleep  would  hardly  soothe 
A  soul  that  once  had  tasted  of  immortal  Truth. 

What  is  the  Heaven  our  God  bestows  ? 
No  Prophet  yet,  no  Angel  knows ; 
Was  never  yet  created  eye 
Could  see  across  Eternity  ; 
Not  seraph's  wing  for  ever  soaring 
Can  pass  the  flight  of  souls  adoring, 
That  nearer  still  and  nearer  grow 
To  the  unapproach£d  Lord,  once  made  for  them 
so  low. 

Unseen,  unfelt  their  earthly  growth, 
And  self-accused  of  sin  and  sloth 
They  live  and  die  ;  their  names  decay, 
Their  fragrance  passes  quite  away ; 
Like  violets  in  the  freezing  blast 
No  vernal  steam  around  they  cast, — 
But  they  shall  flourish  from  the  tomb, 
The   breath    of    God   shall   wake    them    into 
odorous  bloom. 


SEPTUAGESIMA  SUNDAY  61 

Then  on  the  incarnate  Saviour's  breast, 
The  fount  of  sweetness,  they  shall  rest, 
Their  spirits  every  hour  imbued 
More  deeply  with  His  precious  Blood. 
But  peace — still  voice  and  closed  eye 
Suit  best  with  hearts  beyond  the  sky, 
Hearts  training  in  their  low  abode, 
Daily  to  lose  themselves  in  hope  to  find  their 
God. 


SEPTUAGESIMA  SUNDAY 

The  invisible  things  of  Him  from  the  creation  of 
the  world  are  jjclearly  seen,  being  understood  by  the 
things  that  are  made.     Romans  i.  20. 

SEPTUAGESIMA  SUNDAY.     18 19. 

One  of  the  earliest  and  most  beautiful  poems,  an 
expression  of  the  truth  so  dear  to  Mr  Keble  that 
Nature  is  a  type  of  grace.  The  principle  on  which 
this  is  based  is  worked  out  in  Tract  for  the  Times, 
No.  89;  cf.  pp.  137-186,  and  esp.  the  comment  of 
S.  Ambrose  on  the  Creation.  "  The  Church  is  the 
true  moon  which  from  the  never- failing  light  of  her 
brother  borrows  for  herself  the  lustre  of  immortality 
and  grace.  For  the  Church  shineth  not  with  her 
own  but  with  our  Saviour's  light,  and  draws  to 
herself  splendour  from  the  Sun  of  Righteousness" 
(P.  156). 

A  good  summary  of  the  chief  analogies  between 
Nature  and  Grace  used  by  patristic  writers  will  be 
found  in  I.  Williams,  "  On  the  Study  of  the  Gospels," 
PL  iv.  pp.  268,  269. 

Compare  also  "De  Imitatione  Christi,"  ii.  4.  Si 
rectum  esset  cor  tuum,  tunc  omnis  creatura  speculum 
vitae  et  liber  sanctse  doctrinae  esset.  Non  est  creatura 
tarn  parva  et  vilis,  quae  Dei  bonitatem  non  reprzesentet. 
And    the   saying    of    S.    Antony   quoted    in    Socrates, 


62  SEPTUAGESIMA  SUNDAY 

"Eccl.  Hist."  iv.  23.  to  ifj.6v  fiifiXiop,  Si  <pi\6ao(f>e,  77 
<f>6<ns  t<2v  yey  ovotwv  carl'  nal  ira.pe<TTLi>,  ore  fiovKofxai, 
tovs  Xoyovs  dv  ay  ivugkziv  tovs  rod  deov. 

'"THERE  is  a  Book,  who  runs  may  read, 
Which  heavenly  Truth  imparts, 

And  all  the  lore  its  scholars  need, 
Pure  eyes  and  Christian  hearts. 

The  works  of  God  above,  below, 

Within  us  and  around, 
Are  pages  in  that  Book,  to  shew 

How  God  Himself  is  found. 

The  glorious  sky  embracing  all 

Is  like  the  Maker's  love, 
Wherewith  encompassed,  great  and  small 

In  peace  and  order  move. 

The  Moon  above,  the  Church  below, 

A  wondrous  race  they  run, 
But  all  their  radiance,  all  their  glow, 

Each  borrows  of  its  Sun. 

The  Saviour  lends  the  light  and  heat 

That  crowns  His  holy  hill  ; 
The  saints,  like  stars,  around  His  seat, 

Perform  their  courses  still.1 

The  saints  above  are  stars  in  Heaven — 

What  are  the  saints  on  earth  ? 
Like  trees  they  stand  whom  God  has  given,2 

Our  Eden's  happy  birth. 

1  Daniel  xii.  3.  2  Isaiah  ix.  21. 


SEPTUAGESIMA  SUNDAY  63 

Faith  is  their  fixed  unswerving  root, 

Hope  their  unfading  flower, 
Fair  deeds  of  Charity  their  fruit, 

The  glory  of  their  bower. 

The  dew  of  Heaven  is  like  Thy  grace,1 

It  steals  in  silence  down  ; 
But  where  it  lights,  the  favoured  place 

By  richest  fruits  is  known. 

One  Name  above  all  glorious  names 

With  its  ten  thousand  tongues 
The  everlasting  sea  proclaims, 

Echoing  angelic  songs. 

The  raging  Fire,2  the  roaring  Wind, 

Thy  boundless  power  display  : 
But  in  the  gentler  breeze  we  find 

Thy  Spirit's  viewless  way.3 

Two  worlds  are  ours  :  'tis  only  Sin 

Forbids  us  to  descry 
The  mystic  heaven  and  earth  within, 

Plain  as  the  sea  and  sky. 

Thou,  who  hast  given  me  eyes  to  see 

And  love  this  sight  so  fair, 
Give  me  a  heart  to  find  out  Thee, 

And  read  Thee  everywhere. 

1  Psalm  lxviii.  9.  2  Hebrews  xii.  29. 

3  S.  John  iii.  8. 


64    SEXAGESIMA  SUNDAY 


SEXAGESIMA  SUNDAY 

So  He  drove  out  the  man ;  and  He  placed  at  the 
east  of  the  garden  of  Eden  Cherubims,  and  a  flaming 
sword  which  turned  every  way,  to  keep  the  way  of  the 
tree  of  life.     Genesis  iii.  20.     Cf.  vi. 

SEXAGESIMA  SUNDAY.    Feb.  18,  1824. 

The  sad  consequences  of  sin  are  overruled  by  God  to 
be  sources  of  blessing 

pOE  of  mankind  !    too  bold  thy  race  : 
Thou  runn'st  at  such  a  reckless  pace, 
Thine   own   dire  work   thou   surely  wilt   con- 
found : 
'Twas  but  one  little  drop  of  sin 
We  saw  this  morning  enter  in, 
And  lo  !  at  eventide  the  world  is  drowned. 

See  here  the  fruit  of  wandering  eyes, 

Of  worldly  longings  to  be  wise, 
Of  Passion  dwelling  on  forbidden  sweets : 

Ye  lawless  glances,  freely  rove  : 

Ruin  below  and  wrath  above 
Are  all  that  now  the  wildering  fancy  meets. 

Lord,  when  in  some  deep  garden  glade, 
Of  Thee  and  of  myself  afraid, 
From  thoughts  like  these  among  the  bowers  I 
hide, 
Nearest  and  loudest  then  of  all 
I  seem  to  hear  the  Judge's  call :  — 
"  Where  art  thou,  fallen  man  ?  come  forth,  and 
be  thou  tried." 


SEXAGESIMA  SUNDAY    63 

Trembling  before  Thee  as  I  stand, 
Where'er  I  gaze  on  either  hand 

The  sentence  is  gone  forth,  the  ground  is  cursed  : 
Yet  mingled  with  the  penal  shower 
Some  drops  of  balm  in  every  bower 

Steal  down  like  April  dews,  that  softest  fall  and 
first. 

If  filial  and  maternal  love l 
Memorial  of  our  guilt  must  prove, 

If  sinful  babes  in  sorrow  must  be  born, 
Yet,  to  assuage  her  sharpest  throes, 
The  faithful  mother  surely  knows 

This  was  the  way  Thou  earnest  to  save  the 
world  forlorn. 

If  bless&d  wedlock  may  not  bless 2 
Without  some  tinge  of  bitterness 

To  dash  her  cup  of  joy,  since  Eden  lost, 
Chaining  to  earth  with  strong  desire 
Hearts  that  would  highest  else  aspire, 

And  o'er  the  tenderer  sex  usurping  ever  most ; 

Yet  by  the  light  of  Christian  lore 

'Tis  blind  Idolatry  no  more, 
But  a  sweet  help  and  pattern  of  true  Love, 

Shewing  how  best  the  soul  may  cling 

To  her  immortal  Spouse  and  King, 
How  He  should  rule,  and  she  with  full  desire 
approve. 

1  In  sorrow  thou  shalt  bring  forth  children.     Genesis 
iii.  16. 

2  Thy  desire  shall  be  to  thy  husband,  and  he  shall 
rule  over  thee.     Genesis  iii.  16. 


66    SEXAGESIMA  SUNDAY 

If  niggard  Earth  her  treasures  hide,1 
To  all  but  labouring  hands  denied, 

Lavish  of  thorns  and  worthless  weeds  alone, 
The  doom  is  half  in  mercy  given 
To  train  us  in  our  way  to  Heaven, 

And  show  our  lagging  souls  how  glory  must  be 
won. 

If  on  the  sinner's  outward  frame  2 

God  hath  impressed  His  mark  of  blame, 

And  even  our  bodies  shrink  at  touch  of  light, 
Yet  mercy  hath  not  left  us  bare  : 
The  very  weeds  we  daily  wear  3 

Are  to  faith's  eye  a  pledge  of  God's  forgiving 
might. 

And  oh  !   if  yet  one  arrow  more,4 

The  sharpest  of  the  Almighty's  store, 
Tremble  upon  the  string — a  sinner's  death — 

Art  Thou  not  by  to  soothe  and  save, 

To  lay  us  gently  in  the  grave, 
To  close  the  weary  eye  and  hush  the  parting 
breath  ? 

Therefore  in  sight  of  man  bereft 
The  happy  garden  still  was  left, 

The  fiery  sword  that  guarded  shewed  it  too, 
Turning  all  ways,  the  world  to  teach, 
That  though  as  yet  beyond  our  reach, 

Still  in  its  place  the  tree  of  life  and  glory  grew. 

1  Cursed  is  the  ground  for  thy  sake.     Genesis  iii.  17. 

2  I  was  afraid,  because  I  was  naked.     Genesis  iii.  10. 

3  The  Lord  God  made  coats  of  skins,  and  clothed 
them.     Genesis  iii.  21. 

4  Thou  shalt  surely  die.     Genesis  ii.  17. 


QUINQUAGESIMA  SUNDAY  67 
QUINQUAGESIMA  SUNDAY 

I  do  set  My  bow  in  the  cloud,  and  it  shall  be  for 
a  token  of  a  covenant  between  Me  and  the  earth. 
Genesis  ix.  13.     (Cf.  viii.  11  and  1  Cor.  xiii. — MSS.) 

QUINQUAGESIMA  SUNDAY.     March  6,  1824. 

God's  pardoning  Love — imaged  to  Noah  after  the 
flood  in  the  dove,  the  olive  leaf,  and  the  rainbow, 
and  to  us  in  the  life  of  Jesus.  As  the  rainbow  breaks 
up  and  softens  the  light  for  eyes  which  could  not  bear 
the  full  glare  of  the  sun,  so  the  face  of  the  Son  of  Man 
attracts  those  who  could  not  gaze  upon  the  Son  of  God. 

CWEET  Dove  !  the  softest,  steadiest  plume 
^     In  all  the  sunbright  sky, 
Brightening  in  ever-changeful  bloom 
As  breezes  change  on  high  ;  x — 

Sweet  Leaf!   the  pledge  of  peace  and  mirth, 
"  Long  sought,  and  lately  won,'*  2 

Blest  increase  of  reviving  Earth, 
When  first  it  felt  the  Sun  ; — 

Sweet  Rainbow  !  pride  of  summer  days, 
High  set  at  Heaven's  command, 

Though  into  drear  and  dusky  haze 
Thou  melt  on  either  hand  ; — 

Dear  tokens  of  a  pardoning  God, 

We  hail  ye,  one  and  all, 
As  when  our  fathers  walked  abroad, 

Freed  from  their  twelve  months'  thrall. 

1  "  Each  moment  as  you  fly."— MSS. 
a  "  Long    sought   and   lately  won."     Perhaps  a  re- 
miniscence of  "The  Bridal  of  Triermain,"  Canto  iii.  1 ; 
"  Long-loved,  long-wooed,  and  lately  won." 


68  QUINQUAGESIMA  SUNDAY 

How  joyful  from  the  imprisoning  ark 
On  the  green  earth  they  spring  ! 

Not  blither,  after  showers,  the  lark 
Mounts  up  with  glistening  wing. 

So  home-bound  sailors  spring  to  shore, 

Two  oceans  safely  past ; 
So  happy  souls,  when  life  is  o'er, 

Plunge  in  the  empyreal  vast. 

What  wins  their  first  and  fondest  gaze 

In  all  the  blissful  field, 
And  keeps  it  through  a  thousand  days  ? 

Love  face  to  face  revealed  : 

Love  imaged  in  that  cordial  look 

Our  Lord  in  Eden  bends 
On  souls  that  sin  and  earth  forsook 

In  time  to  die  His  friends. 

And  what  most  welcome  and  serene 

Dawns  on  the  Patriarch's  eye, 
In  all  the  emerging  hills  so  green, 

In  all  the  brightening  sky  ? 

What  but  the  gentle  rainbow's  gleam, 

Soothing  the  wearied  sight, 
That  cannot  bear  the  solar  beam, 

With  soft  undazzling  light  ? 

Lord,  if  our  fathers  turned  to  Thee 

With  such  adoring  gaze, 
Wondering  frail  man  Thy  light  should  see 

Without  Thy  scorching  blaze ; 


ASH-WEDNESDAY         69 

Where  is  our  love,  and  where  our  hearts — 
We  who  have  seen  Thy  Son, 

Have  tried  Thy  Spirit's  winning  arts, 
And  yet  we  are  not  won  ? 

The  Son  of  God  in  radiance  beamed 

Too  bright  for  us  to  scan, 
But  we  may  face  the  rays  that  streamed 

From  the  mild  Son  of  Man. 

There,  parted  into  rainbow  hues, 

In  sweet  harmonious  strife, 
We  see  celestial  love  diffuse 

Its  light  o'er  Jesus'  life. 

God,  by  His  bow,  vouchsafes  to  write 
This  truth  in  Heaven  above  ; 

As  every  lovely  hue  is  Light, 
So  every  grace  is  Love. 


ASH-WEDNESDAY 

When  thou  fastest,  anoint  thine  head,  and  wash 
thy  face ;  that  thou  appear  not  unto  men  to  fast,  but 
unto  thy  Father  which  is  in  secret. — S.  Matthew  vi. 
17,  18. 

THE  BLESSING  OF  CONFESSION.     Jan.  22  or  23, 
1826.— Hursley. 

Our  own  heart  bids  us  to  hide  our  sin  and  save  others 
the  pain  of  it,  but  what  a  comfort  it  is  to  tell  it  to 
some  loving  heart  and  infer  God's  forgiveness  from 
his.  Even  if  we  have  no  such  friend,  the  angels,  nay, 
even  Christ  Himself  will  be  present  to  cheer  the  sinner 
who  confesses  his  sin  to  God. 

This  should  be  compared  with  the  Twenty-fourth 
Sunday  after  Trinity,  which  dwells  even  more  strongly 


70         ASH-WEDNESDAY 

on  the  sinner's  loneliness,  and  with  the  poem  in  the 
Lyra  Innocentium  for  Ash-Wednesday,  "  The  Three 
Absolutions,"  which  speaks  more  clearly  of  the  Church's 
power  to  absolve. 

"  VES — deep  within,  and  deeper  yet 

The  rankling  shaft  of  conscience  hide, 
Quick  let  the  swelling  eye  forget 

The  tears  that  in  the  heart  abide. 
Calm  be  the  voice,  the  aspect  bold, 

No  shuddering  pass  o'er  lip  or  brow, 
For  why  should  Innocence  be  told 

The  pangs  that  guilty  spirits  bow  ? 

"  The  loving  eye  that  watches  thine 

Close  as  the  air  that  wraps  thee  round — 
Why  in  thy  sorrow  should  it  pine, 

Since  never  of  thy  sin  it  found  ? 
And  wherefore  should  the  heathen  see  l 

What  chains  of  darkness  thee  enslave, 
And  mocking  say,  Lo,  this  is  he 

Who  owned  a  God  that  could  not  save  ?  " 

Thus  oft  the  mourner's  wayward  heart 

Tempts  him  to  hide  his  grief  and  die, 
Too  feeble  for  Confession's  smart, 

Too  proud  to  bear  a  pitying  eye  ; 
How  sweet,  in  that  dark  hour,  to  fall 

On  bosoms  waiting  to  receive 
Our  sighs,  and  gently  whisper  all ! 

They  love  us — will  not  God  forgive  ? 2 

1  Wherefore   should    they   say   among   the   people, 
Where  is  their  God  ?     Joel  ii.  17. 

2  This  stanza  is  not  found  in  either  MS.,  but  was 
printed  in  the  first  edition. 


ASH-WEDNESDAY         71 

Else  let  us  keep  our  fast  within, 

Till  Heaven  and  we  are  quite  alone,1 
Then  let  the  grief,  the  shame,  the  sin, 

Before  the  mercy-seat  be  thrown. 
Between  the  porch  and  altar  weep,2 

Unworthy  of  the  holiest  place, 
Yet  hoping  near  the  shrine  to  keep 

One  lowly  cell  in  sight  of  grace. 

Nor  fear  lest  sympathy  should  fail : — 

Hast  thou  not  seen,  in  night-hours  drear, 
When  racking  thoughts  the  heart  assail, 

The  glimmering  stars  by  turns  appear, 
And  from  the  eternal  home  above 

With  silent  news  of  mercy  steal  ? 
So  Angels  pause  on  tasks  of  love, 

To  look  where  sorrowing  sinners  kneel. 

Or  if  no  Angel  pass  that  way, 

He  who  in  secret  sees,  perchance 
May  bid  His  own  heart-warming  ray 

Toward  thee  stream  with  kindlier  glance, 
As  when  upon  His  drooping  head 

His  Fathers  light  was  poured  from  Heaven, 
WThat  time,  unsheltered  and  unfed,3 

Far  in  the  wild  His  steps  were  driven. 

High  thoughts  were  with  him  in  that  hour, 
Untold,  unspeakable  on  earth — 

And  who  can  stay  the  soaring  power 
Of  spirits  weaned  from  worldly  mirth, 

1  "  But  keep  thy  solemn  fast  within 

When  Heaven  and  thou  are  quite  alone." — MSS. 

2  Let  the  priests,  the  ministers  of  the  Lord  weep  be- 
tween the  porch  and  the  altar.     Joel  ii.  17. 

3  S.  Matthew  iv.  1. 


72  FIRST  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

While  fei  beyond  the  sound  of  praise 

W::h  „yv,2-.;  eye  they  rl:.-:  «r.er.-;. 
And  learn  to  be^r  their  Saviour's  blaze 
When  Judgment  shall  undraw  the  screen  ? 


FIRST  SUNDAY  IX  LENT 

Haste  thee,  escape  thither  :  for  I  cannot  do  anything 
till  thon  be  come  thither.     Therefore  the  name  of  the 

city  wz«  :i_lri  Z:ir.     Gr-eii;  sis.   :: 

THE  CITY  OF  REFUGE.     March  9,  1X14 

~     .-..::;       ■  •      _       .'     -      -  :  •  .  . :'-    . 

;  judgments  fall  upon  the  world     As  Zoar  was  a 

temporary  refuge  ::  L::.  n  the  visible  Church  and  a 

::.::-.  .  ■.  ::r.r     -    .      - 
yet  they  are  in  the  world,  and  we  must  not  limit  our 
hopes  even  to  them. 

"   ANGEL   0:  wrath  !  why  linger  in  mid  air, 

x         While  the  d  :y's  cry 

Lce.de:  ir.i  '.: 

Thy  full-charged  vial  standing  by  ?  " 
The  5.  with  stern  voice,  unsparing  Justice  pleads : 

He  hears  her  not — with  softened  gaze 
His  eye  is  following  where  n  .     leads, 

And  till  she  gives  the  sign,  his  fury  stay* 

Guided  by  her,  along  the  mountain  road, 
¥ :-.:  though  the  twihght  of  the  morn, 

With  fa  rrying  footsteps  from  the  accursed  abode 
He  sees  the  holy  household  borne : 

Angels,  or  more,  on  either  hand  are  nigh, 
T    speed  them  o'er  the  tempting  plain, 

Lingering  in  heart,  and  with  frail  sidelong  e 

Seeking  how  near  they  may  unharmed  remain. 


FIRST  SUNDAY  IN  LENT  y3 

"  Ah  !   wherefore  gleam  those  upland  slopes  so 
fair? 
And  why,  through  every  woodland  arch, 
Swells   yon    bright    vale,    as    Eden    rich    and 
rare, 
Where  Jordan  winds  his  stately  march  ; 
If  all  must  be  forsaken,  ruined  all, 

If  God  have  planted  but  to  burn  ? — 
Surely  not  yet  the  avenging  shower  will  fall, 
Though    to    my    home    for    one    last    look    I 
turn." 

Thus  while  they  waver,  surely  long  ago 

They  had  provoked  the  withering  blast, 

But  that  the  merciful  Avengers  know 

Their  frailty  well,  and  hold  them  fast. 

"  Haste,  for  thy  life  escape,  nor  look  behind  !  " 
Ever  in  thrilling  sounds  like  these 

They  check  the  wandering  eye,  severely  kind, 

Nor  let  the  sinner  lose  his  soul  at  ease. 

And  when,  o'erwearied  with  the  steep  ascent, 

We  for  a  nearer  refuge  crave, 
One  little  spot  of  ground  in  mercy  lent, 

One  hour  of  home  before  the  grave, 
Oft  in  His  pity  o'er  His  children  weak, 

His  hand  withdraws  the  penal  fire, 
And  where  we  fondly  cling,  forbears  to  wreak 
Full  vengeance,  till  our  hearts  are  weaned  entire. 

Thus  by  the  merits  of  one  righteous  man,1 
The  Church,  our  Zoar,  shall  abide, 

Till  she  abuse,  so  sore,  her  lengthened  span 
Even  Mercy's  self  her  face  must  hide. 
1  "Merits":  prayers.—  MSS. 


74  SECOND  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

Then,  onward  yet  a  step,  thou  hard-won  soul ; 

Though  in  the  Church  thou  know  thy  place, 
The  mountain  farther  lies — there  seek  thy  goal, 
There  breathe  at  large,  o'erpast  thy  dangerous 
race. 

Sweet  is  the  smile  of  home ;  the  mutual  look 
When  hearts  are  of  each  other  sure  ; 

Sweet  all  the  joys  that  crowd  the  household  nook, 
The  haunt  of  all  affections  pure ; 

Yet  in  the  world  even  these  abide,  and  we 
Above  the  world  our  calling  boast : 

Once  gain  the  mountain-top,  and  thou  art  free : 

Till  then,  who  rest,  presume  ;  who  turn  to  look, 
are  lost. 


SECOND  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

And  when  Esau  heard  the  words  of  his  father,  he 
cried  with  a  great  and  exceeding  bitter  cry,  and  said 
unto  his  father,  Bless  me,  even  me  also,  O  my  father. 
Genesis  xxvii.  34. — (Cf.  Hebrews  xii.  17.  He  found 
no  place  of  repentance,  though  he  sought  it  carefully 
with  tears.)1 

ESAU'S  FORFEIT.     ?   1824. 

"The  sternest  and  the  most  awful  of  all  the  Christian 
Year." — Miss  Yonge.     The  cry  of  remorse  may  come 

1  The  author  earnestly  hopes,  that  nothing  in  these 
stanzas  will  be  understood  to  express  any  opinion  as  to 
the  general  efficacy  of  what  is  called  "  a  death-bed 
repentance."  Such  questions  are  best  left  in  the  merci- 
ful obscurity  with  which  Scripture  has  enveloped  them. 
Esau's  probation,  as  far  as  his  birthright  was  concerned, 
was  quite  over  when  he  uttered  the  cry  in  the  text. 
His  despondency,  therefore,  is  not  parallel  to  any  thing 
on  this  side  the  grave. — J.  K. 


SECOND  SUNDAY  IN  LENT  75 

too  late ;  the  revelation  of  eternal  life  goes  side  by  side 
with  that  of  eternal  death  ;  we  may  not  take  the  one 
and  reject  the  other. 

The  poem  should  be  compared  with  Mr  Keble's  last 
published  sermon,  preached  forty  years  later.  Pente- 
costal Fear  :  A  Sermon  preached  in  the  Parish  Church 
of  Cuddesdon,  on  May  24,  1864. 

"  AND  is  there  in  God's  world    so    drear  a 
place 

Where  the  loud  bitter  cry  is  raised  in  vain  ? 
Where  tears  of  penance  come  too  late  for  grace, 

As  on  the  uprooted  flower  the  genial  rain  ? " 

'Tis  even  so :  the  sovereign  Lord  of  souls 
Stores  in  the  dungeon  of  His  boundless  realm 

Each  bolt,  that  o'er  the  sinner  vainly  rolls, 
With  gathered  wrath  the  reprobate  to  whelm. 

Will  the  storm  hear  the  sailor's  piteous  cry,1 
Taught   to    mistrust,  too   late,  the    tempting 
wave, 

When  all  around  he  sees  but  sea  and  sky, 
A  God  in  anger,  a  self-chosen  grave  ? 

Or  will  the  thorns,  that  strew  intemperance'  bed, 
Turn  with  a  wish  to  down  ?  will  late  remorse 

Recall  the  shaft  the  murderer's  hand  has  sped, 
Or  from  the  guiltless  bosom  turn  its  course  ? 

Then  may  the  unbodied  soul  in  safety  fleet 
Through  the  dark  curtains  of  the  world  above, 

Fresh  from  the  stain  of  crime ;  nor  fear  to  meet 
The  God,  whom  here  she  would  not  learn  to 

love : 
1  Cf.  Bp.  Butler's  "  Analogy,"  pp.  54-64,  ed.  1736. — 
J.  K.     Cf.  also  Claudian  in  "Eutrop."  ii.  7:  Quid 

juvat  errorem  mersa  jam  puppe  fateri. 


j6  SECOND  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

Then  is  there  hope  for  such  as  die  unblest, 
That  angel  wings  may  waft  them  to  the  shore, 

Nor  need  the  unready  virgin  strike  her  breast, 
Nor  wait  desponding  round  the  bridegroom's 
door. 

But  where  is  then  the  stay  of  contrite  hearts  ? 

Of  old  they  leaned  on  Thy  eternal  Word, 
But  with  the  sinner's  fear  their  hope  departs, 

Fast  linked  as  Thy  great  Name  to  Thee,  O 
Lord : 

That  Name,  by  which  Thy  faithful  oath  is  past, 
That  we  should  endless  be,  for  joy  or  woe  : — 

And  if  the  treasures  of  Thy  wrath  could  waste, 
Thy  lovers  must  their  promised  Heaven  forego. 

But  ask  of  elder  days,  earth's  vernal  hour, 
When  in  familiar  talk  God's  voice  was  heard, 

When  at  the  Patriarch's  call  the  fiery  shower 
Propitious  o'er  the  turf-built  shrine  appeared. 

Watch  by  our  father  Isaac's  pastoral  door — 
The  birthright  sold,  the  blessing  lost  and  won, 

Tell,  Heaven  has  wrath  that  can  relent  no  more, 
The  Grave,  dark  deeds  that  cannot  be  undone. 

We  barter  life  for  pottage ;  sell  true  bliss 

For  wealth  or  power,  for  pleasure  or  renown  ; 

Thus,  Esau-like,  our  Father's  blessing  miss, 
Then  wash  with  fruitless  tears  our  faded  crown. 

Our  faded  crown,  despised  and  flung  aside, 
Shall  on  some  brother's  brow  immortal  bloom. 

No  partial  hand  the  blessing  may  misguide ; 
No    flattering    fancy  change    our   Monarch's 
doom: 


THIRD  SUNDAY  IN  LENT  yy 

His  righteous  doom,  that  meek  true-hearted  Love 
The  everlasting  birthright  should  receive, 

The  softest  dews  drop  on  her  from  above,1 
The  richest  green  her  mountain  garland  weave : 

Her  brethren,  mightiest,  wisest,  eldest  born, 
Bow  to  her  sway,  and  move  at  her  behest : 

Isaac's  fond  blessing  may  not  fall  on  scorn, 
Nor    Balaam's    curse   on    Love  which    God 
hath  blest. 


THIRD  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

When  a  strong  man  armed  keepeth  his  palace,  his 
goods  are  in  peace ;  but  when  a  stronger  than  he  shall 
come  upon  him,  and  overcome  him,  he  taketh  from  him 
all  his  armour  wherein  he  trusted,  and  divideth  his 
spoils.     S.  Luke  xi.  21.  22. 

THE  SPOILS  OF  SATAN.     Feb.  9,  1827. 

The  consecration  of  classical  literature  to  Christ. 

As  the  Israelites  at  the  Exodus  spoiled  the  Egyptians, 
as  at  their  capture  of  Canaan  they  entered  upon  all  the 
results  of  the  toil  of  the  Canaanites,  so  Christians  can 
enter  into  all  the  treasures  of  classic  literature,  for  each 
aspiration  there  finds  its  fulfilment  in  the  revelation  of 
Christ. 

This  thought  is  a  favourite  one  in  Mr  Keble's  lectures 
on  poetry,  cf.  especially  "  Prasl.  Acad."  ii.  pp.  799-818. 
It  is  illustrated  by  his  use  of  the  story  of  Hector  and 
Andromache  in  the  poem  for  Monday  before  Easter ; 
and  may  be  well  compared  with  the  defence  of  the  study 
of  Greek  literature  in  Socrates,  "  Hist.  Eccl."  iii.  16,  on 
the  ground  that  to  yap  KaXdv,  evd'  av  77,  idiov  ttjs 
dXrjdelas  iariv.  The  application  of  the  spoiling  of  the 
Egyptians  to  the  use  of  pagan  literature  is  found  in 
Origen,  "  Ep.  ad.  Greg."  and  Augustine,  "  De  Doctr. 
Christ."  ii.  40. 

1  Genesis  xxvii.  27,  28. 


yS  THIRD  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

A  first  draft  of  the  poem  was  written  as  early  as  1822 
in  four-line  stanzas,  the  greater  part  of  which  are  pub- 
lished in  Miss  Yonge,  "  Musings,"  p.  87,  but  this 
revised  draft  of  1827  is  far  richer  in  illustration  and 
more  poetic  in  diction. 

CEE  Lucifer  like  lightning  fall, 

Dashed  from  his  throne  of  pride  ; 
While,  answering  Thy  victorious  call, 

The  Saints  his  spoils  divide  ;  x 
This  world  of  Thine,  by  him    usurped    too 
long, 
Now  opening  all  her  stores  to  heal  Thy  servants' 
wrong. 

So  when  the  first-born  of  Thy  foes 

Dead  in  the  darkness  lay, 
When  Thy  redeemed  at  midnight  rose 

And  cast  their  bonds  away, 
The  orphaned    realm   threw  wide  her  gates, 
and  told 
Into  freed  Israel's  lap  her  jewels  and  her  gold.2 

And  when  their  wondrous  march  was  o'er, 

And  they  had  won  their  homes, 
Where  Abraham  fed  his  flock  of  yore, 

Among  their  fathers'  tombs  ; — 
A  land  that  drinks  the  rain  of  Heaven  at  will, 
Whose  waters  kiss  the  feet  of  many  a  vine-clad 
hill ;— 3 

Oft  as  they  watched,  at  thoughtful  eve, 

A  gale  from  bowers  of  balm 
Sweep  o'er  the  billowy  corn,  and  heave 

The  tresses  of  the  palm, 

1  Cf.  Isaiah  xiv.  12.     S.  Luke  xi.  22. 

2  Cf.  Exodus  xii.  35,  36.      3  Cf.  Deuteronomy  xi.  11. 


THIRD  SUNDAY  IN  LENT  79 

Just  as  the  lingering  Sun  had  touched  with  gold, 
Far  o'er  the  cedar  shade,  some  tower  of  giants 
old; 

It  was  a  fearful  joy,  I  ween, 

To  trace  the  Heathen's  toil, 
The  limpid  wells,  the  orchards  green 

Left  ready  for  the  spoil, 
The  household    stores   untouched,  the    roses 
bright 
Wre?thed  o'er  the  cottage  walls  in  garlands  of 
delight.1 

And  now  another  Canaan  yields 

To  Thine  all-conquering  ark  ;  — 
Fly  from  the  "  old  poetic  M  fields,2 

Ye  Paynim  shadows  dark  ! 
Immortal  Greece,  dear  land  of  glorious  lays, 
Lo!   here  the  "unknown  God  "  of  thy  uncon- 
scious praise  !  3 

The  olive  wreath,  the  ivied  wand, 

"  The  sword  in  myrtles  drest,"  4 
Each  legend  of  the  shadowy  strand 

Now  wakes  a  vision  blest ; 
As  little  children  lisp,  and  tell  of  Heaven, 
So  thoughts  beyond  their  thought  to  those  high 
Bards  were  given. 

1  Cf.  Deuteronomy  vi.  1 1. 

2  "  Where  each  old  poetic  mountain 

Inspiration   breathed   around." — Gray.      "  The 
Progress  of  Poesy,"  73.  74.  3  Cf.  Acts  xvii.  23. 

4  "  The  sword  in  myrtles  drest."  Translated  in 
Collins,  "Ode  to  Liberty,"  from  the  hymn  of  Calli- 
stratus  in  honour  of  Harmodius  and  Aristogeiton,  who 
had  won  immortality  by  the  murder  of  Hipparchus. 


80  FOURTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

And  these  are  ours  :  Thy  partial  grace 

The  tempting  treasure  lends : 
These  relics  of  a  guilty  race 

Are  forfeit  to  Thy  friends : 
What  seemed  an  idol  hymn,  now  breathes  of 
Thee, 
Tuned  by  Faith's  ear  to  some  celestial  melody. 

There's  not  a  strain  to  Memory  dear,1 

Nor  flower  in  classic  grove, 
There's  not  a  sweet  note  warbled  here, 

But  minds  us  of  Thy  Love. 
O  Lord,  our  Lord,  and  spoiler  of  our  foes, 
There  is  no  light  but  Thine  :    with   Thee   all 
beauty  glows. 

FOURTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

Joseph  made  haste ;  for  his  bowels  did  yearn  upon 
his  brother :  and  he  sought  where  to  weep  ;  and  he 
entered  into  his  chamber,  and  wept  there.  Genesis 
xliii.  30. 

There  stood  no  man  with  him,  while  Joseph  made 
himself  known  unto  his  brethren.     Genesis  xlv.  1. 
THE  ROSEBUD.     May  18,  1824. 

The  true  reserve  of  religious  feeling.  Silent  and 
unseen  are  the  great  changes  of  Nature ;  so  is  it  with 

1  See  Burns'  Works,  iv.  293.     Dr  Currie's  edition. 
"I  see  her  in  the  dewy  flowers, 
I  see  her  sweet  and  fair : 
I  hear  her  in  the  tuneful  birds, 
I  hear  her  charm  the  air. 

"  There's  not  a  bonnie  flower  that  springs 
By  fountain,  shaw.  or  green, 
There's  not  a  bonnie  bird  that  sings 
But  minds  me  o'  my  Jean." 
Cf.  Keble's  "  Occasional  Papers  and  Reviews/'  p.  92, 
where  this  same  passage  of  Burns  is  quoted. 


w 


FOURTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT  81 

Love  whether  of  man  or  of  God :  it  shrinks  from  display ; 
even  the  Holy  Spirit  has  not  revealed  the  Love  of  the 
meeting  of  the  Risen  Lord  with  His  Mother ;  and 
Joseph,  the  type  of  Christ,  would  have  no  one  present 
when  he  made  himself  known  to  his  brethren. 

This  thought — a  protest  against  the  unreserved 
pouring  forth  of  religious  experience  which  was 
common  in  the  religious  world  of  the  time — is  very 
common  in  Mr  Keble,  cf.  the  Review  of  the  Life  of  Sir 
W.  Scott,  "  Occasional  Papers  and  Reviews,"  p.  17. 
It  found  its  chief  expression  in  the  teaching  of  Isaac 
Williams,  who  was  his  pupil  at  Southrop  at  the  time 
when  this  poem  was  written,  and  afterwards  the 
author  of  Tract  No.  87.  "  Reserve  in  communicating 
Religious  Knowledge." 

HEN  Nature  tries  her  finest  touch, 
Weaving  her  vernal  wreath, 
Mark  ye,  how  close  she  veils  her  round, 
Not  to  be  traced  by  sight  or  sound, 

Nor  soiled  by  ruder  breath  ? 

Who  ever  saw  the  earliest  rose 

First  open  her  sweet  breast  ? 
Or,  when  the  summer  sun  goes  down, 
The  first  soft  star  in  evening's  crown 
Light  up  her  gleaming  crest  ? 

Fondly  we  seek  the  dawning  bloom 
On  features  wan  and  fair, — 

The  gazing  eye  no  change  can  trace, 

But  look  away  a  little  space, 

Then  turn,  and,  lo  !   'tis  there. 

But  there's  a  sweeter  flower  than  e'er 

Blushed  on  the  rosy  spray — 
A  brighter  star,  a  richer  bloom 
Than  e'er  did  western  heaven  illume 
At  close  of  summer  day. 


82  FOURTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

'Tis  Love,  the  last  best  gift  of  Heaven  ; 

Love  gentle,  holy,  pure  : 
But  tenderer  than  a  dove's  soft  eye, 
The  searching  sun,  the  open  sky, 

She  never  could  endure. 

Even  human  Love  will  shrink  from  sight 

Here  in  the  coarse  rude  earth  : 
How  then  should  rash  intruding  glance 
Break  in  upon  her  sacred  trance 

Who  boasts  a  heavenly  birth  ? 

So  still  and  secret  is  her  growth, 

Ever  the  truest  heart, 
Where  deepest  strikes  her  kindly  root 
For  hope  or  joy,  for  flower  or  fruit, 

Least  knows  its  happy  part. 

God  only,  and  good  Angels,  look 

Behind  the  blissful  screen — 
As  when,  triumphant  o'er  His  woes, 
The  Son  of  God  by  moonlight  rose, 

By  all  but  Heaven  unseen  : 

As  when  the  holy  Maid  beheld 

Her  risen  Son  and  Lord : 
Thought  has  not  colours  half  so  fair 
That  she  to  paint  that  hour  may  dare, 

In  silence  best  adored. 

The  gracious  Dove,  that  brought  from  Heaven 

The  earnest  of  our  bliss, 
Of  many  a  chosen  witness  telling, 
On  many  a  happy  vision  dwelling, 

Sings  not  a  note  of  this. 


FIFTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT  83 

So,  truest  image  of  the  Christ, 
Old  Israel's  long-lost  son, 
What  time,  with  sweet  forgiving  cheer, 
He  called  his  conscious  brethren  near, 
Would  weep  with  them  alone. 

He  could  not  trust  his  melting  soul 

But  in  his  Maker's  sight — 
Then  why  should  gentle  hearts  and  true 
Bare  to  the  rude  world's  withering  view 
Their  treasure  of  delight  ? 

No — let  the  dainty  rose  a  while 

Her  bashful  fragrance  hide — 
Rend  not  her  silken  veil  too  soon, 
But  leave  her,  in  her  own  soft  noon, 
To  flourish  and  abide. 

FIFTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

And  Moses  said,  I  will  now  turn  aside,  and  see  this 
great  sight,  why  the  bush  is  not  burnt.     Exodus  iii.  3. 

THE  BURNING  BUSH.     April  24,  1824. 

The  lesson  of  the  history  of  the  Jews. 

In  all  history — which  is  but  a  record  of  "  God's  way 
of  teaching  love  and  fear  " — there  is  no  sight  so  strange 
as  the  permanence  of  the  Jewish  race,  like  the  Bush 
which  Moses  saw  burning  yet  not  consumed.  They 
stand  as  a  warning  to  the  Christian  Church  :  they 
stand  as  a  type  of  the  undecaying  life  that  may  be  in 
store  for  a  lost  soul ;  and  yet  there  is  hope  for  them, 
not  of  a  national  restoration,  but  of  individual  redemp- 
tion to  every  Jew  who  will  seek  for  it. 

This  meditation  is  based  on  the  thought  that  the 
history  of  the  Jewish  race  as  a  whole  was  meant  to  be 
a  type  of  God's  dealing  with  the  individual  Christian, 
cf.  "  Occasional  Papers  and  Reviews,"  p.  435.  The 
particular  application  maybe  due  to  Pascal,  "  Pensees," 


84  FIFTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

ii.  1 1  (ed.  Molinier) :  "  C'est  une  chose  estonnante  et 
digne  d'une  estrange  attention  de  voir  ce  peuple  Juif 
subsister  depuis  tant  d'annees  et  de  le  voir  toujours 
miserable." 

THE  historic  Muse,  from  age  to  age, 

Through    many   a    waste    heart-sickening 

page 
Hath  traced  the  works  of  Man  : 

But  a  celestial  call  to-day 

Stays  her,  like  Moses,  on  her  way, 
The  works  of  God  to  scan. 

Far  seen  across  the  sandy  wild, 
Where,  like  a  solitary  child, 

He  thoughtless  roamed  and  free, 
One  towering  thorn  *  was  wrapt  in  flame — 
Bright  without  blaze  it  went  and  came : 

Who  would  not  turn  and  see  ? 

Along  the  mountain  ledges  green 
The  scattered  sheep  at  will  may  glean 

The  Desert's  spicy  stores  : 
The  while,  with  undivided  heart, 
The  shepherd  talks  with  God  apart, 

And,  as  he  talks,  adores. 

Ye  too,  who  tend  Christ's  wildering  flock,2 
Well  may  ye  gather  round  the  rock 

That  once  was  Sion's  hill, 
To  watch  the  fire  upon  the  mount 
Still  blazing,  like  the  solar  fount, 

Yet  unconsuming  still. 

1  "  Seneh  "  :  said  to  be  a  sort  of  Acacia. — J.  K. 

2  "Wildering,"  i.e.  wandering.  In  1858  Keble 
wrote :  "  With  respect  to  the  word  which  gave  occa- 
sion to  our  little  correspondence,  I  find  that  according 


FIFTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT  85 

Caught  from  that  blaze  by  wrath  divine, 
Lost  branches  of  the  once-loved  vine, 

Now  withered,  spent,  and  sere, 
See  Israel's  sons,  like  glowing  brands, 
Tost  wildly  o'er  a  thousand  lands 

For  twice  a  thousand  year. 

God  will  not  quench  nor  slay  them  quite, 
But  lifts  them  like  a  beacon  light 

The  apostate  Church  to  scare ; 
Or  like  pale  ghosts  that  darkling  roam, 
Hovering  around  their  ancient  home, 

But  find  no  refuge  there. 

Ye  blessed  Angels  !   if  of  you 
There  be,  who  love  the  ways  to  view 

Of  Kings  and  Kingdoms  here  ; 
(And  sure,  'tis  worth  an  Angel's  gaze, 
To  see,  throughout  the  dreary  maze, 

God  teaching  love  and  fear  : ) 

Oh  !   say,  in  all  the  bleak  expanse, 
Is  there  a  spot  to  win  your  glance, 

So  bright,  so  dark  as  this  ? 
A  hopeless  faith,  a  homeless  race, 
Yet  seeking  the  most  holy  place, 
And  owning  the  true  bliss  ! 
to  Johnson  there  is  or  was  such  a   word  as  f  wildering  ' 
or  to  '  wilder ' ;  only,  unluckily  for  me,  it    is  a  verb 
active — the    same  as   to   l  bewilder.'     So   it   must  be 
considered  an  error,  and  wandering  or  some  such  word 
must  be  kindly  substituted  for  it." — Coleridge's  "  Me- 
moir," p.  162.     He  never  altered  it  here,  or  on  p.  64, 
but  the  MSS.  show  that  he  did  alter  it  in  some  other 
lines  in  the  "Christian  Year"  before  its  publication: 
e.g.  in  the  Fifth  Sunday  after  Epiphany  and  Trinity 
Sunday. 


86  FIFTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT 

Salted  with  fire  they  seem,1  to  shew 
How  spirits  lost  in  endless  woe 

May  undecaying  live. 
Oh,  sickening  thought !   yet  hold  it  fast 
Long  as  this  glittering  world  shall  last, 

Or  sin  at  heart  survive. 

And  hark  !   amid  the  flashing  fire, 
Mingling  with  tones  of  fear  and  ire, 

Soft  Mercy's  undersong — 
'Tis  Abraham's  God  who  speaks  so  loud, 
His  people's  cries  have  pierced  the  cloud, 

He  sees,  He  sees  their  wrong ;  2 

He  is  come  down  to  break  their  chain  ; 
Though  never  more  on  Sion's  fane 

His  visible  ensign  wave  ; 
'Tis  Sion,  wheresoe'er  they  dwell, 
Who  with  His  own  true  Israel, 

Shall  own  him  strong  to  save. 

He  shall  redeem  them  one  by  one, 
Where'er  the  world-encircling  sun 

Shall  see  them  meekly  kneel  : 
All  that  He  asks  on  Israel's  part, 
Is  only,  that  the  captive  heart 

Its  woe  and  burthen  feel. 

Gentiles  !   with  fixed  yet  awful  eye 
Turn  ye  this  page  of  mystery, 

Nor  slight  the  warning  sound  : 
"  Put  off  thy  shoes  from  off  thy  feet — 
The  place  where  man  his  God  shall  meet, 

Be  sure,  is  holy  ground." 

1  S.  Mark  ix.  49,  2  Exodus  iii.  7,  8 


PALM  SUNDAY  87 

PALM  SUNDAY 

And  He  answered  and  said  unto  them,  I  tell  you 
that,  if  these  should  hold  their  peace,  the  stones  would 
immediately  cry  out. — S.  Luke  xix.  40. 

THE  CHILDREN  IN  THE  TEMPLE.      Date 
uncertain,  but  not  later  than   1821. 

The  ideal  of  Poetry.  An  appeal  to  poets  to  use  their 
gift  for  God's  glory,  probably  suggested  by  the  degrada- 
tion of  poetry  to  the  praise  of  earthly  passion  in  the 
hands  of  Byron  and  Shelley.  Cf.  "  Prasl.  Acad."  i.  222. 
Compare  the  poem  for  the  Fourth  Sunday  after 
Epiphany,  and  also  George  Herbert's  "  Introit."  (Pal- 
grave,  "  Treasury  of  Sacred  Song,"  xxxvii.) 

V^E  whose  hearts  are  beating  high 
1     With  the  pulse  of  Poesy, 
Heirs  of  more  than  royal  race, 
Framed  by  Heaven's  peculiar  grace, 
God's  own  work  to  do  on  earth, 

(If  the  word  be  not  too  bold,) 
Giving  virtue  a  new  birth, 

And  a  life  that  ne'er  grows  old — l 

Sovereign  masters  of  all  hearts  ! 
Know  ye,  who  hath  set  your  parts  ? 
He  who  gave  you  breath  to  sing, 
By  whose  strength  ye  sweep  the  string, 
He  hath  chosen  you,  to  lead 

His  Hosannas  here  below  ; — 
Mount,  and  claim  your  glorious  meed ; 

Linger  not  with  sin  and  woe. 

1  Cf.  Ovid,  ex  Ponlo  iv.  8,  47,  48,  55. 

Carmine  fit  vivax  virtus ;  expersque  sepulchri 
Notitiam  seroe  posteritates  habet, 

Di  quoque  carminibus  (si  far  est  dicere)  fiunt. 


88  PALM  SUNDAY 

But  if  ye  should  hold  your  peace, 
Deem  not  that  the  song  would  cease — 
Angels  round  His  glory-throne, 
Stars,  His  guiding  hand  that  own, 
Flowers  that  grow  beneath  our  feet, 

Stones  in  earth's  dark  womb  that  rest, 
High  and  low  in  choir  shall  meet, 

Ere  His  Name  shall  be  unblest. 

Lord,  by  every  minstrel  tongue 
Be  Thy  praise  so  duly  sung, 
That  Thine  angels'  harps  may  ne'er 
Fail  to  find  fit  echoing  here  : 
We  the  while,  of  meaner  birth, 

Who  in  that  divinest  spell 
Dare  not  hope  to  join  on  earth, 

Give  us  grace  to  listen  well. 

But  should  thankless  silence  seal 
Lips,  that  might  half  Heaven  reveal, 
Should  bards  in  idol-hymns  profane 
The  sacred  soul-enthralling  strain, 
(As  in  this  bad  world  below 

Noblest  things  find  vilest  using,) 
Then,  Thy  power  and  mercy  shew, 

In  vile  things  noble  breath  infusing  ; 

Then  waken  into  sound  divine 
The  very  pavement  of  Thy  shrine, 
Till  we,  like  Heaven's  star-sprinkled  floor, 
Faintly  give  back  what  we  adore. 
Childlike  though  the  voices  be, 

And  untunable  the  parts, 
Thou  wilt  own  the  minstrelsy, 

If  it  flow  from  childlike  hearts. 


MONDAY  BEFORE  EASTER   89 


MONDAY  BEFORE  EASTER 

Doubtless  Thou  art  our  Father,  though  Abraham  be 
ignorant  of  us,  and  Israel  acknowledge  us  not. — Isaiah 
lxiii.  16. 

CHRIST  WAITING  FOR  THE  CROSS. 
Jan.  15,  1826. 

The  individual  love  of  the  Christian  for  Christ  and  of 
Christ  for  each  Christian. 

Christ  is  to  us  all  that  Hector  was  to  Andromache  ; 
nay,  more,  He  never  forgets  us.  We  may  fancy  our- 
selves deserted,  but  He  cared  for  and  thought  of  each 
individual  soul  in  the  quiet  days  of  Passion  week.  We 
fancy  this  would  appeal  to  us  more,  if  we  had  seen  the 
actual  scene  of  His  prayer  ;  but  faith  must  lay  hold  of 
the  truth,  and  can  do  so  by  reading  the  Gospel  record. 

«  CATHER  to  me   Thou  art,  and  Mother 
dear, 
And    Brother    too,    kind    Husband    of   my 
heart !  " 
So  speaks  Andromache  l  in  boding  fear, 

Ere  from  her  last  embrace  her  hero  part — 
So  evermore,  by  Faith's  undying  glow, 
We  own  the  Crucified  in  weal  or  woe. 

Strange  to  our  ears  the  church-bells  of  our  home, 
The  fragrance  of  our  old  paternal  fields 

May  be  forgotten  ;  and  the  time  may  come 
When  the   babe's  kiss  no  sense  of  pleasure 
yields 

Even  to  the  doting  mother :  but  Thine  own 

Thou  never  canst  forget,  nor  leave  alone.2 

1  "  Iliad,"  vi.  429.  Cf.  note  on  Holy  Innocents'  Day 
and  on  Third  Sunday  in  Lent. 

2  Cf.  p.  46,  supra. 


9o  MONDAY  BEFORE  EASTER 

There  are  who  sigh  that  no  fond  heart  is  theirs, 
None  loves  them  best — O   vain  and   selfish 
sigh  ! 

Out  of  the  bosom  of  His  love  He  spares — 
The  Father  spares  the  Son,  for  thee  to  die : 

For  thee  He  died — for  thee  He  lives  again : 

O'er  thee  He  watches  in  His  boundless  reign. 

Thou  art  as  much  His  care,  as  if  beside 

Nor  man  nor  angel  lived  in  Heaven  or  earth  : 

Thus  sunbeams  pour  alike  their  glorious  tide 
To  light  up  worlds,  or  wake  an  insect's  mirth  : 

They  shine  and  shine  with  unexhausted  store — 

Thou  art  thy  Saviour's  darling — seek  no  more. 

On  thee  and  thine,  thy  warfare  and  thine  end, 
Even  in  His  hour  of  agony  He  thought, 

When,  ere  the  final  pang  His  soul  should  rend, 
The  ransomed  spirits  one  by  one  were  brought 

To    His    mind's    eye :     two    silent   nights  and 
days1 

In  calmness  for  His  far-seen  hour  He  stays. 

Ye  vaulted  cells,  where  martyred  seers  of  old 
Far  in  the  rocky  walls  of  Sion  sleep, 

Green  terraces  and  arched  fountains  cold, 

Where  lies  the  cypress  shade  so  still  and  deep, 

Dear  sacred  haunts  of  glory  and  of  woe, 

Help  us,  one  hour,  to  trace  His  musings  high 
and  low : 

1  In  Passion  week,  from  Tuesday  evening  to 
Thursday  evening:  during  which  time  Scripture 
seems  to  be  nearly  silent  concerning  our  Saviour's 
proceedings. — J.  K. 


MONDAY  BEFORE  EASTER  91 

One  heart-ennobling  hour  !   It  may  not  be  : 
The   unearthly   thoughts   have   passed    from 
earth  away, 
And  fast  as  evening  sunbeams  from  the  sea 

Thy  footsteps  all  in  Sion's  deep  decay 
Were  blotted  from  the  holy  ground :  yet  dear 
Is  every  stone  of  hers  ;  for  Thou  wast  surely 
here. 

There  is  a  spot  within  this  sacred  dale 

That  felt  Thee  kneeling — touched  Thy  pros- 
trate brow : 

One  Angel  knows  it.     O  might  prayer  avail 
To  win  that  knowledge  !   sure  each  holy  vow 

Less  quickly  from  the  unstable  soul  would  fade, 

Offered  where  Christ  in  agony  was  laid. 

Might  tear  of  ours  once  mingle  with  the  blood 
That  from  His  aching  brow  by  moonlight  fell, 

Over  the  mournful  joy  our  thoughts  would  brood, 
Till  they  had  framed  within  a  guardian  spell 

To  chase  repining  fancies,  as  they  rise, 

Like  birds  of  evil  wing,  to  mar  our  sacrifice. 

So    dreams    the    heart     self-flattering,     fondly 
dreams  ; — 
Else  wherefore,  when  the  bitter  waves  o'er- 
flow, 
Miss  we  the  light,  Gethsemane,  that  streams 
From  Thy  dear  name,  where  in  His  page  of 
woe 
It  shines,  a  pale  kind  star  in  winter's  sky  ? 
Who  vainly  reads  it  there,  in  vain    had   seen 
Him  die.1 

1  Cf.  S.  Luke  xvi.  31. 


92  TUESDAY  BEFORE  EASTER 


TUESDAY  BEFORE  EASTER 

They  gave  Him  to  drink  wine  mingled  with  myrrh : 
but  He  received  it  not.     S.  Mark  xv.  23. 

CHRIST  REFUSING  THE   WINE   AND 
MYRRH.     March  17,  1827. 

The  completeness  of  Christ's  self-sacrifice.  He 
refuses  the  opiate  that  would  dull  His  senses,  in  order 
that  by  feeling  all  He  may  pity  all.  Thus  He  has 
taught  us  to  face  sorrow  and  to  seek  the  only  solace  in 
it  which  He  had, — the  joy  of  forgiving  the  penitent 
and  committing  His  Spirit  to  the  Father's  hands. 

"  CILL  high  the  bowl,  and  spice  it  well,  and 

pour 
The  dews  oblivious :   for  the  Cross  is  sharp, 

The  Cross  is  sharp,  and  He 

Is  tenderer  than  a  lamb. 

"  He  wept  by  Lazarus'  grave — how   will   He 

bear 
This  bed  of  anguish  ?  and  His  pale  weak  form 

Is  worn  with  many  a  watch 

Of  sorrow  and  unrest. 

"  His  sweat  last  night  was  as   great   drops  of 

blood, 
And  the  sad  burthen  pressed  Him  so  to  earth, 

The  very  torturers  paused 

To  help  Him  on  His  way. 

"  Fill  high  the  bowl,  benumb  His  aching  sense 
With  medicined  sleep." — O  awful  in  Thy  woe  ! 
The  parching  thirst  of  death 
Is  on  Thee,  and  Thou  triest 


TUESDAY  BEFORE  EASTER  93 

The    slumbrous    potion    bland,    and    wilt    not 

drink  : 
Not  sullen,  nor  in  scorn,  like  haughty  man 

With  suicidal  hand 

Putting  his  solace  by  : 

But  as  at  first  Thine  all-pervading  look 
Saw  from  Thy  Father's  bosom  to  the  abyss, 

Measuring  in  calm  presage, 

The  infinite  descent  ; 

So  to  the  end,  though  now  of  mortal  pangs 
Made  heir,  and  emptied  of  Thy  glory  awhile, 

With  unaverted  eye 

Thou  meetest  all  the  storm. 

Thou  wilt  feel  all,  that  Thou  mayst  pity  all ; 
And  rather  wouldst  Thou  wrestle  with  strong 
pain, 

Than  overcloud  Thy  soul, 

So  clear  in  agony, 

Or  lose  one  glimpse  of  Heaven  before  the  time. 
O  most  entire  and  perfect  sacrifice, 

Renewed  in  every  pulse 

That  on  the  tedious  Cross 

Told  the  long  hours  of  death,  as,  one  by  one, 
The  life-strings  of  that  tender  heart  gave  way  ; 

Even  sinners,  taught  by  Thee, 

Look  Sorrow  in  the  face, 

And  bid  her  freely  welcome,  unbeguiled 
By  false  kind  solaces,  and  spells  of  earth  : — 

And  yet  not  all  unsoothed  ; 

For  when  was  Joy  so  dear, 


94  WEDNESDAY 

As   the    deep    calm    that   breathed,    "  Father, 

forgive  !  " 
Or,  "  Be  with  Me  in  Paradise  to-day  "  ? 

And,  though  the  strife  be  sore, 

Yet  in  His  parting  breath 

Love  masters  Agony ;  the  soul  that  seemed 
Forsaken,  feels  her  present  God  again, 

And  in  her  Father's  arms 

Contented  dies  away. 

WEDNESDAY  BEFORE  EASTER 

Saying,  Father,  if  Thou  be  willing-,  remove  this  cup 
from  Me :  nevertheless  not  My  will,  but  Thine,  be  done. 
S.  Luke  xxii.  42. 

CHRIST  IN  THE  GARDEN.  August  13,  182 1.— 
(K.)  August  18,  1821.— (R.)  "The  Christian's 
Lullaby."— (K2.) 

Perfect  rest  can  be  gained  only  by  self-devotion  and 
resignation  to  God's  will.  These  find  their  highest 
expression  in  the  virgin  and  the  martyr ;  but  the 
martyr's  crown  may  be  won  by  many  whose  silent 
sufferings  attract  no  attention,  and  the  virgin's  crown 
by  wedded  souls  who  live  in  the  spirit  of  detachment 
and  self-surrender. 

In  1820  Keble's  friend  J.  T.  Coleridge  had  lost  his 
first  child,  and  his  friend  John  Patteson  had  lost  his 
wife.  These  losses  may  have  been  in  his  mind  in 
composing  this  poem.  Compare  also  a  letter  written 
to  Coleridge  in  18 18,  on  the  illness  of  his  wife  : — 

"  After  all,  these  anxieties  are  the  greatest  of  mercies. 
They  are,  I  verily  believe,  the  only  effectual  means  to 
wean  us  from  our  idols.  We  make  good  resolutions 
and  do  much  towards  keeping  them,  but  there  is  some- 
thing so  subtle  and  insinuating  in  earthly  happiness 
(and  the  more  so  in  proportion  to  its  innocence  and 
purity)  that  one  such  pang  or  misgiving,  as  leaves  a 
lasting  impression  of  insecurity,  will  do  more  towards 
lifting  our  hearts  where  they  ought  to  be  than  all  that 


BEFORE  EASTER  95 

most  of  us  could,  or  at  least  would,  do  for  another." — 
"  Memoir,"  p.  81. 

O  LORD  my  God,  do  Thou  Thy  holy  will- 
I  will  lie  still ; 
I  will  not  stir,  lest  I  forsake  Thine  arm, 

And  break  the  charm 
Which  lulls  me,  clinging  to  my  Father's  breast, 
In  perfect  rest. 

Wild  fancy,  peace  !   thou  must  not  me  beguile 

With  thy  false  smile  : 
I  know  thy  flatteries  and  thy  cheating  ways ; 

Be  silent,  Praise, 
Blind  guide  with  siren  voice,  and  blinding  all 

That  hear  thy  call. 

Come,  Self-devotion,  high  and  pure, 
Thoughts  that  in  thankfulness  endure, 
Though  dearest  hopes  are  faithless  found, 
And  dearest  hearts  are  bursting  round. 
Come,  Resignation,  spirit  meek, 
And  let  me  kiss  thy  placid  cheek, 
And  read  in  thy  pale  eye  serene 
Their  blessing,  who  by  faith  can  wean 
Their  hearts  from  sense,  and  learn  to  love 
God  only,  and  the  joys  above. 

They  say,  who  know  the  life  divine, 
And  upward  gaze  with  eagle  eyne, 
That  by  each  golden  crown  on  high,1 
Rich  with  celestial  jewelry, 

1  .  .  .  "that  little  coronet  or  special  reward  which 
God  hath  prepared  (extraordinary  and  beside  the  great 
Crown  of  all  faithful  souls)  for  those  '  who  have  not 
defiled  themselves  with  women,  but  follow  the  (virgin) 
Lamb  forever.'"  Bp.  Taylor,  "  Holy  Living," chap.  ii. 
sect.  3. — J.  K. 


96  WEDNESDAY 

Which  for  our  Lord's  redeemed  is  set, 
There  hangs  a  radiant  coronet, 
All  gemmed  with  pure  and  living  light, 
Too  dazzling  for  a  sinner's  sight, 
Prepared  for  virgin  souls,  and  them 
Who  seek  the  martyr's  diadem. 

Nor  deem,  who  to  that  bliss  aspire, 

Must  win  their  way  through  blood  and  fire ; 

The  writhings  of  a  wounded  heart 

Are  fiercer  than  a  foeman's  dart. 

Oft  in  Life's  stillest  shade  reclining, 

In  Desolation  unrepining, 

Without  a  hope  on  earth  to  find 

A  mirror  in  an  answering  mind, 

Meek  souls  there  are,  who  little  dream 

Their  daily  strife  an  Angel's  theme, 

Or  that  the  rod  they  take  so  calm 

Shall  prove  in  Heaven  a  martyr's  palm. 

And  there  are  souls  that  seem  to  dwell 

Above  this  earth  1 — so  rich  a  spell 

Floats  round  their  steps,  where'er  they  move, 

From  hopes  fulfilled  and  mutual  love. 

Such,  if  on  high  their  thoughts  are  set, 

Nor  in  the  stream  the  source  forget, 

If  prompt  to  quit  the  bliss  they  know, 

Following  the  Lamb  where'er  He  go, 

By  purest  pleasures  unbeguiled 

To  idolize  or  wife  or  child ; 

Such  wedded  souls  our  God  shall  own 

For  faultless  virgins  round  His  throne. 

1 "  Above  this  earth  ":  "  In  heaven  on  earth." — MSS. 


BEFORE  EASTER  97 

Thus  everywhere  we  find  our  suffering  God, 

And  where  He  trod 
May  set  our  steps :   the  Cross  on  Calvary 

Uplifted  high 
Beams  on  the  martyr  host,  a  beacon  light 

In  open  fight. 

To  the  still  wrestlings  of  the  lonely  heart 

He  doth  impart 
The  virtue  of  His  midnight  agony, 

When  none  was  nigh, 
Save  God  and  one  good  angel,  to  assuage 

The  tempest's  rage. 

Mortal !  if  life  smile  on  thee,  and  thou  find 

All  to  thy  mind, 
Think  Who   did   once  from   Heaven   to   Hell 
descend 

Thee  to  befriend ; 
So  shalt  thou  dare  forego,  at  His  dear  call, 

Thy  best,  thine  all. 

"  O  Father  !  not  My  will,  but  Thine  be  done — " 

So  spake  the  Son. 
Be  this   our   charm,   mellowing    Earth's   ruder 
noise 

Of  griefs  and  joys  ; 
That  we  may  cling  for  ever  to  Thy  breast 

In  perfect  rest ! 


98  THURSDAY 


THURSDAY  BEFORE  EASTER 

At  the  beginning  of  thy  supplications  the  command- 
ment came  forth,  and  I  am  come  to  shew  thee  ;  for 
thou  art  greatly  beloved :  therefore  understand  the 
matter,  and  consider  the  vision.    Daniel  ix.  23. 

THE  VISION  OF  THE  LATTER  DAYS. 
June  5,  1823. 
The  sad  state  of  the  Church  in  which  for  all  its 
external  dignity  and  world-wide  witness  for  Christ, 
there  is  much  unreal  profession,  passion,  and  pride, 
should  not  make  us  look  for  a  new  faith,  but  humble 
ourselves  and  pray  more  earnestly,  as  Daniel  did. 

"  f~\  HOLY  mountain  of  my  God, 
How  do  thy  towers  in  ruin  lie, 
How  art  thou  riven  and  strewn  abroad, 
Under  the  rude  and  wasteful  sky !  " 
'Twas  thus  upon  his  fasting-day 
The  "  Man  of  Loves  "  was  fain  to  pray,1 
His  lattice  open  toward  his  darling  west, 
Mourning  the  ruined  home  he   still  must  love 
the  best.2 

Oh  !   for  a  love  like  Daniel's  now, 

To  wing  to  Heaven  but  one  strong  prayer 
For  God's  new  Israel,  sunk  as  low, 

Yet  flourishing  to  sight  as  fair, 
As  Sion  in  her  height  of  pride, 
With  queens  for  handmaids  at  her  side, 
With  kings  her  nursing-fathers,  throned  high, 
And  compassed   with  the  world's  too  tempting 
blazonry. 

1  The  "  Man  of  Loves,"  i.e.  dvTjp  eiridvixiCov  (LXX.); 
"  Vir  desideriorum  "  (Vulg.)  ;  "  A  man  greatly  beloved" 
(A. V.),  Dan.  ix.  23  ;  x.  11,  19. 

2  Daniel  vi.  10. 


BEFORE  EASTER  99 

'Tis  true,  nor  winter  stays  thy  growth, 

Nor  torrid  summer's  sickly  smile  ; 
The  flashing  billows  of  the  south 

Break,  not  upon  so  lone  an  isle,1 
But  thou,  rich  vine,  art  grafted  there, 
The  fruit  of  death  or  life  to  bear, 
Yielding  a  surer  witness  every  day, 
To  thine  Almighty   Author  and  His  steadfast 
sway. 

Oh !  grief  to  think,  that  grapes  of  gall 

Should  cluster  round  thine  healthiest  shoot ! 
God's  herald  prove  a  heartless  thrall, 

Who,  if  he  dared,  would  fain  be  mute ! 
Even  such  is  this  bad  world  we  see, 
Which,  self-condemned  in  owning  Thee, 
Yet  dares  not  open  farewell  of  Thee  take, 
For  very  pride,  and  her  high-boasted  Reason's 
sake. 

What  do  we  then  ?  if  far  and  wide 

Men    kneel    to    Christ,    the     pure     and 
meek, 
Yet  rage  with  passion,  swell  with  pride, 
Have  we  not  still  our  faith  to  seek  ? 
Nay — but  in  steadfast  humbleness 
Kneel  on  to  Him,  Who  loves  to  bless 
The  prayer  that  waits  for  Him  ;  and  trembling 
strive 
To  keep  the  lingering  flame  in  thine  own  breast 
alive. 

1  This  thought  of  the  universal  witness  of  the 
Church  for  Christ  was  fully  developed  in  "  Continual 
Services"  in  the  "  Lyra  Innocentium." 


ioo  GOOD  FRIDAY 

Dark  frowned  the  future  even  on  him, 

The  loving  and  beloved  Seer, 
What  time  he  saw,  through  shadows  dim, 

The  boundary  of  the  eternal  year  ; 
He  only  of  the  sons  of  men 
Named  to  be  heir  of  glory  then.1 
Else  had  it  bruised  too  sore  his  tender  heart 
To  see   God's   ransomed   world  in   wrath   and 
flame  depart. 

Then  look  no  more  :  or  closer  watch 

Thy  course  in  Earth's  bewildering  ways,2 
For  every  glimpse  thine  eye  can  catch 

Of  what  shall  be  in  those  dread  days  : 
So  when  the  Archangel's  word  is  spoken, 
And  Death's  deep  trance  for  ever  broken, 
In  mercy  thou  mayst  feel  the  heavenly  hand, 
And  in   thy  lot  unharmed  before   thy    Saviour 
stand.8 


GOOD  FRIDAY 

He  is  despised  and  rejected  of  men.     Isaiah  liii.  3. 

GOOD  FRIDAY.      1826  or  1827:  but  in  a  first  form 
as  early  as  1825. 

The  message  of  Good  Friday  touches  us  with  more 
power  of  comfort  than  that  of  the  great  festivals,  for  it 
comes  home  to  us  in  our  own  hours  of  disappointment 
or  rejected  love ;    then  we  know  how  far  greater  His 

1  Daniel  xii.  13.  See  Bp.  Ken's  Sermon  on  the 
Character  of  Daniel. — J.  K. 

2  "  Then  look  no  more :  or  see  thou  watch 

More  closely  thine  own  wildered  ways." 

3  Thou  shalt  rest,  and  stand  in  thy  lot  at  the  end  of 
the  days.     Daniel  xii.  13. 


GOOD  FRIDAY  101 


suffering  was  than  ours :  yet  even  so  we  shrink  from 
sharing  His  Cross. 

"Mr  Keble  fell  asleep  on  the  29th  of  March  1866. 
.  .  .  The  mournful  family  repaired  from  his  deathbed 
to  his  wife's  bed  and  knelt  round  her  bed  and  prayed. 
She  besought  them  to  return  thanks  for  her  to  God 
that  he  had  been  taken  first,  that  she,  not  he,  had  to 
bear  the  trial  of  surviving:  but  she  expressed  a  hope 
that  she  might  be  released  so  soon  as  to  admit  of  her 
being  buried  at  the  same  time  in  one  grave.  Then  she 
requested  her  maid  to  fetch  her  '  Christian  Year,'  and 
turning  to  the  two  last  stanzas  of  the  verses  on  Good 
Friday,  'I  know,'  said  she,  'these  were  in  his  dying 
thoughts.'"— J.  T.  Coleridge,  "Memoir  of  the  Rev.  J. 
Keble." 

IS  it  not  strange,  the  darkest  hour 

That  ever  dawned  on  sinful  earth 
Should  touch  the  heart  with  softer  power 

For  comfort,  than  an  angel's  mirth  ? 
That  to  the  Cross  the  mourner's  eye  should  turn 
Sooner  than  where  the  stars  of  Christmas  burn  ? 

Sooner  than  where  the  Easter  sun 
Shines  glorious  on  yon  open  grave, 

And  to  and  fro  the  tidings  run, 

"  Who  died  to  heal,  is  risen  to  save  "  ? 

Sooner  than  where  upon  the  Saviour's  friends 

The    very    Comforter   in    light   and   love   de- 
scends ? 

Yet  so  it  is :  for  duly  there 

The  bitter  herbs  of  earth  are  set, 
Till  tempered  by  the  Saviour's  prayer, 

And  with  the  Saviour's  life-blood  wet, 
They  turn  to  sweetness,  and  drop  holy  balm, 
Soft  as  imprisoned  martyr's  deathbed  calm. 


io2  GOOD  FRIDAY 

All  turn  to  sweet — but  most  of  all 

That  bitterest  to  the  lip  of  pride, 
When  hopes  presumptuous  fade  and  fall, 

Or  Friendship  scorns  us,  duly  tried, 
Or  Love,  the  flower  that  closes  up  for  fear 
When  rude  and  selfish  spirits  breathe  too  near. 

Then  like  a  long-forgotten  strain 

Comes  sweeping  o'er  the  heart  forlorn 

What  sunshine  hours  had  taught  in  vain 
Of  Jesus  suffering  shame  and  scorn, 

As  in  all  lowly  hearts  He  suffers  still, 

While  we  triumphant  ride  and  have  the  world 
at  will. 

His  pierced  hands  in  vain  would  hide 
His  face  from  rude  reproachful  gaze, 

His  ears  are  open  to  abide 

The  wildest  storm  the  tongue  can  raise, 

He  who  with  one  rough  word,1  some  early  day, 

Their  idol  world  and  them  shall  sweep  for  aye 
away. 

But  we  by  Fancy  may  assuage 

The  festering  sore  by  Fancy  made, 

Down  in  some  lonely  hermitage 
Like  wounded  pilgrims  safely  laid, 

Where  gentlest  breezes  whisper  souls  distressed, 

That  Love  yet  lives,  and  Patience  shall  find  rest. 

Oh  !   shame  beyond  the  bitterest  thought 

That  evil  spirit  ever  framed, 
That  sinners  know  what  Jesus  wrought, 

Yet  feel  their  haughty  hearts  untamed  : 

1  Wisdom  of  Solomon  xii.  9. 


EASTER  EVE  103 

That  souls  in  refuge,  holding  by  the  Cross, 
Should  wince  and  fret  at  this  world's  little  loss.1 

Lord  of  my  heart,  by  Thy  last  cry, 
Let  not  Thy  blood  on  earth  be  spent ! 

Lo,  at  Thy  feet  I  fainting  lie, 

Mine  eyes  upon  Thy  wounds  are  bent, 

Upon  Thy  streaming  wounds  my  weary  eyes 

Wait  like  the  parched  earth  on  April  skies. 

Wash  me,  and  dry  these  bitter  tears, 

0  let  my  heart  no  further  roam, 
'Tis  Thine  by  vows  and  hopes  and  fears 

Long  since — O  call  Thy  wanderer  home  ; 
To  that  dear  home,  safe  in  Thy  wounded  side, 
Where  only  broken  hearts  their  sin  and  shame 
may  hide. 

EASTER  EVE 

As  for  thee  also,  by  the  blood  of  thy  covenant  I  have 
sent  forth  thy  prisoners  out  of  the  pit  wherein  is  no 
water.     Zechariah  ix.  n. 

EASTER  EVE.  Circ.  1824. 
After  the  burial  Christ's  Spirit  may  have  been  work- 
ing among  the  spirits  of  the  dead,  and  with  Him  was 
the  Penitent  Thief.  So  we  after  death  may  be  with 
Him  and  hold  communion  with  the  Saints  of  old.  Yet 
first  we  must  share  Christ's  burial  here  on  earth  by 
dying  to  the  world. 

T  length  the  worst  is  o'er,  and  Thou  art  laid 
Deep  in  Thy  darksome  bed  ; 
All  still  and  cold  beneath  yon  dreary  stone 
Thy  sacred  form  is  gone ; 

1  This  whole  stanza  is  not  in  the  MSS.,  but  appears 
in  the  first  edition. 


A 


104  EASTER  EVE 

Around  those  lips   where   power  and  mercy 
hung, 
The  dews  of  death  have  clung ; 
The  dull  earth  o'er  Thee,  and  Thy  foes  around, 
Thou    sleep' st  a   silent  corse,  in  funeral  fetters 
wound. 

Sleep'st  Thou  indeed  ?  or  is  Thy  spirit  fled 

At  large  among  the  dead  ? 
Whether  in  Eden  bowers  Thy  welcome  voice 

Wake  Abraham  to  rejoice, 
Or  in  some  drearier  scene  Thine  eye  controls 

The  thronging  band  of  souls  ; 
That,  as  Thy  blood  won  earth,  Thine  agony 
Might  set  the  shadowy  realm  from  sin  and  sorrow 
free.1 

Where'er  Thou  roam'st,  one  happy  soul,  we 
know, 
Seen  at  Thy  side  in  woe,2 
Waits  on  Thy  triumph — even  as  all  the  blest 

With  him  and  Thee  shall  rest. 
Each  on  his  cross,  by  Thee  we  hang  a  while, 

Watching  Thy  patient  smile, 
Till   we  have  learned  to   say,   "  'Tis  justly 
done, 
Only  in  glory,  Lord,  Thy  sinful  servant  own." 

Soon  wilt  Thou  take  us  to  Thy  tranquil  bower 

To  rest  one  little  hour, 
Till  Thine  elect  are  numbered,  and  the  grave 

Call  Thee  to  come  and  save  : 
Then  on  Thy  bosom  borne  shall  we  descend, 

Again  with  earth  to  blend, 
1  Cf.  i  S.  Peter  iii.  18,  19.  2  S.  Luke  xxiii.  43. 


EASTER  EVE  105 

Earth  all  refined  with  bright  supernal  fires, 
Tinctured    with  holy  blood,  and  winged  with 
pure  desires. 

Meanwhile  with  every  son  and  saint  of  Thine 

Along  the  glorious  line, 
Sitting  by  turns  beneath  Thy  sacred  feet 

We'll  hold  communion  sweet, 
Know  them  by  look  and   voice,  and   thank 
them  all 
For  helping  us  in  thrall, 
For  words  of  hope,  and  bright  examples  given 
To  show  through  moonless  skies  that  there  is 
light  in  Heaven. 

O  come  that  day,  when  in  this  restless  heart 

Earth  shall  resign  her  part, 
When  in  the  grave  with  Thee  my  limbs  shall 
rest, 
My  soul  with  Thee  be  blest ! 
But   stay,    presumptuous — Christ   with    thee 
abides 
In  the  rock's  dreary  sides : 
He  from  the  stone  will  wring  celestial  dew 
If  but  the  prisoner's  heart  be  faithful  found  and 
true. 

When  tears  are  spent,  and  thou  art  left  alone 
With  ghosts  of  blessings  gone, 

Think  thou  art  taken  from  the  Cross,  and  laid 
In  Jesus'  burial  shade  ; 

Take  Moses'  rod,  the  rod  of  prayer,  and  call 
Out  of  the  rocky  wall 

The  fount  of  holy  blood  ;  and  lift  on  high 
Thy  grovelling  soul  that  feels  so  desolate  and  dry. 


106  EASTER  DAY 

Prisoner  of  Hope  thou  art * — look  up  and  sing 

In  hope  of  promised  spring. 
As  in  the  pit  his  fathers  darling  lay  2 

Beside  the  desert  way, 
And  knew  not  how,  but  knew  his  God  would 
save 
Even  from  that  living  grave, 
So,  buried  with  our  Lord,  we'll  close  our  eyes 
To  the  decaying  world,  till  angels  bid  us  rise. 

EASTER  DAY 

And  as  they  were  afraid,  and  bowed  down  their  faces 
to  the  earth,  they  said  unto  them,  Why  seek  ye  the 
living  among  the  dead  ?  He  is  not  here,  but  is  risen. 
S.  Luke  xxiv.  5,  6. 

EASTER  DAY.     April  18,1822. 

Easter  Day  sheds  its  glory  on  all  the  year :  and  on 
ail  the  universe.  It  teaches  that  our  hopes  are  fixed 
above  the  earth,  and  yet  it  ennobles  the  earth,  as  the 
place  which  Christ  has  consecrated  :  and  He  is  still 
present  to  consecrate  our  lonely  and  our  social  hours 
alike  to  His  service. 

(~\  DAY  of  days  !   shall  hearts  set  free 
^      No  "  minstrel  rapture  "  find  for  thee  ? 8 
Thou  art  the  Sun  of  other  days, 
They  shine  by  giving  back  thy  rays : 

1  Turn  you  to  the  strong  hold,  ye  prisoners  of  hope. 
Zechariah  ix.  12. 

The  words  "  look  up  and  sing  "  are  enclosed  in  inverted 
commas  in  the  MSS.,  as  though  they  were  a  quotation. 

2  They  took  him,  and  cast  him  into  a  pit ;  and  the 
pit  was  empty,  there  was  no  water  in  it.  Genesis 
xxxvii.  24. 

3  "  O  day  of  days,  and  can  my  heart 

No  votive  hymn  to  thee  impart  ?  " — MSS. 
"Minstrel  rapture"  is  borrowed  from  "The  Lay  of 
the  Last  Minstrel,"  vi.  1 : 

"  For  him  no  minstrel  raptures  swell." 


EASTER  DAY  107 

Enthroned  in  thy  sovereign  sphere 
Thou  shedd'st  thy  light  on  all  the  year : 
Sundays  by  thee  more  glorious  break, 
An  Easter  Day  in  every  week : 

And  week-days,  following  in  their  train, 
The  fulness  of  thy  blessing  gain, 
Till  all,  both  resting  and  employ, 
Be  one  Lord's  day  of  holy  joy. 

Then  wake,  my  soul,  to  high  desires, 
And  earlier  light  thine  altar  fires : 
The  world  some  hours  is  on  her  way, 
Nor  thinks  on  thee,  thou  blessed  day  : 

Or,  if  she  think,  it  is  in  scorn  : 
The  vernal  light  of  Easter  morn 
To  her  dark  gaze  no  brighter  seems 
Than  reason's  or  the  law's  pale  beams. 

"  Where  is  your  Lord  ?  "  she  scornful  asks  : 
"  Where  is  His  hire  ?  we  know  His  tasks  ; 
Sons  of  a  King  ye  boast  to  be ; 
Let  us  your  crowns  and  treasures  see." 

We  in  the  words  of  Truth  reply 
(An  Angel  brought  them  from  the  sky),1 
"  Our  crown,  our  treasure  is  not  here, 
'Tis  stored  above  the  highest  sphere  : 

"  Methinks  your  wisdom  guides  amiss, 
To  seek  on  earth  a  Christian's  bliss  ; 
We  watch  not  now  the  lifeless  stone  ; 
Our  only  Lord  is  risen  and  gone." 

1  S.  Luke  xxiv.  5. 


108  EASTER  DAY 

Yet  even  the  lifeless  stone  is  dear 
For  thoughts  of  Him  who  late  lay  here  ; 
And  the  base  world,  now  Christ  hath  died, 
Ennobled  is  and  glorified.1 

No  more  a  charnel-house,  to  fence 
The  relics  of  lost  innocence, 
A  vault  of  ruin  and  decay  ; — 
The  imprisoning  stone  is  rolled  away : 

'Tis  now  a  cell,  where  Angels  use 

To  come  and  go  with  heavenly  news, 

And  in  the  ears  of  mourners  say, 

"  Come,  see  the  place  where  Jesus  lay  !  "  2 

'Tis  now  a  fane,  where  Love  can  find 
Christ  everywhere  embalmed  and  shrined ; 
Aye  gathering  up  memorials  sweet, 
Where'er  she  sets  her  duteous  feet. 

Oh  !  joy  to  Mary  first  allowed, 
When  roused  from  weeping  o'er  his  shroud, 
By  His  own  calm,  soul-soothing  tone, 
Breathing  her  name,  as  still  His  own !  3 

Joy  to  the  faithful  three  renewed, 
As  their  glad  errand  they  pursued  !  4 
Happy,  who  so  Christ's  word  convey, 
That  He  may  meet  them  on  their  way ! 

1  After  this  verse  the  MSS.  insert  a  whole  stanza  : — 

"  Who  love  the  world  for  the  world's  sake 
Small  reckoning  of  their  darling  make, 
Who  prize  it  highest,  love  it  best, 
Treat  it  as  Christ's  redeemed  and  blest." 

2  S.  Mark  xvi.  6.  3  S.  John  xx.  16. 
4  i.e.  Mary  Magdalene,  Mary  the  mother  of  James, 

and  Salome;    cf.   S.    Mark  xvi.    i    with  S.   Matthew 
xxviii.  9. 


MONDAY  IN  EASTER  WEEK  109 

So  is  it  still :  to  holy  tears, 
In  lonely  hours,  Christ  risen  appears : 
In  social  hours,  who  Christ  would  see, 
Must  turn  all  tasks  to  Charity. 

MONDAY  IN  EASTER  WEEK 

Of  a  truth  I  perceive  that  God  is  no  respecter  of 
persons :  but  in  every  nation  he  that  feareth  him,  and 
worketh  righteousness,  is   accepted  with  him. — Acts 
x.  34.  35- 
S.  PETER  AND  CORNELIUS.     Feb.   12,  1826. 

Two  streams  rising  in  distant  hills  but  ultimately 
joining  to  form  one  great  river  are  like  two  prayers 
going  up  to  God — as  from  the  centurion  Cornelius  and 
S.  Peter — and  forming  one  great  stream  of  blessing  to 
the  Gentile  world. 

f^O  up  and  watch  the  new-born  rill1 
^    Just  trickling  from  its  mossy  bed, 
Streaking  the  heath-clad  hill 
With  a  bright  emerald  thread. 

Canst  thou  her  bold  career  foretell, 
What  rock  she  shall  o'erleap  or  rend, 
How  far  in  ocean's  swell 

Her  freshening  billows  send  ? 

Perchance  that  little  brook  shall  flow 
The  bulwark  of  some  mighty  realm, 
Bear  navies  to  and  fro 

With  monarchs  at  their  helm. 
1  "  See  the  source  of  the  Wye  on  Plinlimmon." — 
J.  K.  MS.  Note.  The  statement,  then,  of  Miss  Yonge 
— (which  the  present  editor  followed  in  his  "  Memoir 
of  John  Keble,"  p.  60) — that  the  reference  is  to  the 
source  of  the  Severn  and  the  Thames,  must  be  a  mistake. 
It  probably  is  to  the  Severn  and  the  W^e. 


no  MONDAY  IN 

Or  canst  thou  guess,  how  far  away 
Some  sister  nymph  beside  her  urn 
Reclining  night  and  day, 

Mid  reeds  and  mountain  fern, 
Nurses  her  store,  with  thine  to  blend 
When  many  a  moor  and  glen  are  past, 
Then  in  the  wide  sea  end 
Their  spotless  lives  at  last  ? 

Even  so,  the  course  of  prayer  who  knows  ? 
It  springs  in  silence  where  it  will, 
Springs  out  of  sight,  and  flows 
At  first  a  lonely  rill : 

But  streams  shall  meet  it  by  and  by 
From  thousand  sympathetic  hearts, 
Together  swelling  high 

Their  chant  of  many  parts. 

Unheard  by  all  but  angel  ears 
The  good  Cornelius  knelt  alone, 
Nor  dreamed  his  prayers  and  tears 
Would  help  a  world  undone, 

The  while  upon  his  terraced  roof 
The  loved  Apostle  to  his  Lord 
In  silent  thought  aloof 

For  heavenly  vision  soared. 

Far  o'er  the  glowing  western  main 
His  wistful  brow  was  upward  raised, 
Where,  like  an  Angel's  train, 
The  burnished  water  blazed. 
The  saint  beside  the  ocean  prayed, 
The  soldier  in  his  chosen  bower, 
Where  all  his  eye  surveyed 
Seemed  sacred  in  that  hour. 


EASTER  WEEK  1 1 1 

To  each  unknown  his  brother's  prayer  ; 
Yet  brethren  true  in  dearest  love 
Were  they — and  now  they  share 
Fraternal  joys  above. 

There  daily  through  Christ's  open  gate 

They  see  the  Gentile  spirits  press, 

Brightening  their  high  estate 

With  dearer  happiness. 

What  civic  wreath  for  comrades  saved 
Shone  ever  with  such  deathless  gleam, 
Or  when  did  perils  braved 
So  sweet  to  veterans  seem  ? l 


TUESDAY  IN  EASTER  WEEK 

And  they  departed  quickly  from  the  sepulchre  with 
fear  and  great  joy  ;  and  did  run  to  bring  His  disciples 
word.     S.  Matthew  xxviii.  8. 

THE  SNOW-DROP.     March  7  or  10,  1826. 

We  trust  the  witness  of  the  snow-drop  to  the  coming 
year,  and  yet  mistrust  the  witness  of  the  angels  and  the 
holy  women  to  the  fact  of  the  Lord's  Resurrection. 
Such  witness  has  not  ceased.  The  Pastor  finds  it  still 
in  some  simple  believer  suffering  patiently  in  a  cottage 
home. 

TO  THE  SNOW-DROP 

'"THOU  first-born  of  the  year's  delight, 

Pride  of  the  dewy  glade, 
In  vernal  green  and  virgin  white, 
Thy  vestal  robes,  arrayed  : 

1  The  allusion  is  to  the  "  civica  corona,"  the  oak-leaf 
crown  for  saving  a  fellow-citizen's  life,  which  was  to 
the  Roman  centurion  what  the  Victoria  Cross  would 
be  to  an  English  soldier. 


ii2  TUESDAY  IN 

'Tis  not  because  thy  drooping  form 

Sinks  graceful  on  its  nest, 
When  chilly  shades  from  gathering  storm 

Affright  thy  tender  breast ; 

Nor  for  yon  river  islet  wild 

Beneath  the  willow  spray, 
Where,  like  the  ringlets  of  a  child, 

Thou  weavest  thy  circle  gay  ; l 

'Tis  not  for  these  I  love  thee  dear ; 

Thy  shy  averted  smiles 
To  Fancy  bode  a  joyous  year, 

One  of  Life's  fairy  isles. 

They  twinkle  to  the  wintry  moon, 

And  cheer  the  ungenial  day, 
And  tell  us,  all  will  glisten  soon 

As  green  and  bright  as  they. 

Is  there  a  heart  that  loves  the  spring 

Their  witness  can  refuse  ? 
Yet  mortals  doubt  when  angels  bring 

From  Heaven  their  Easter  news : 

When  holy  maids  and  matrons  speak 

Of  Christ's  forsaken  bed, 
And  voices,  that  forbid  to  seek 

The  living  'mid  the  dead, 

And  when  they  say,  "  Turn,  wandering  heart, 

Thy  Lord  is  risen  indeed, 
Let  Pleasure  go,  put  Care  apart, 

And  to  His  presence  speed  ;  "  2 

1  "  Yon  river  islet  wild":  probably  an  island  on  the 
Test. — Miss  Yonge,  "  Musings,"  p.  131. 

2  This  stanza  is  not  found  in  the  MSS. 


EASTER  WEEK  113 

We  smile  in  scorn  :  and  yet  we  know 
They  early  sought  the  tomb, 

Their  hearts,  that  now  so  freshly  glow, 
Lost  in  desponding  gloom. 

They  who  have  sought,  nor  hope  to  find, 
Wear  not  so  bright  a  glance  : 

They  who  have  won  their  earthly  mind 
Less  reverently  advance. 

But  where,  in  gentle  spirits,  fear 

And  joy  so  duly  meet, 
These  sure  have  seen  the  angels  near, 

And  kissed  the  Saviour's  feet. 

Nor  let  the  Pastor's  thankful  eye 

Their  faltering  tale  disdain, 
As  on  their  lowly  couch  they  lie, 

Prisoners  of  want  and  pain. 

O  guide  us  when  our  faithless  hearts 
From  Thee  would  start  aloof,1 

Where  Patience  her  sweet  skill  imparts 
Beneath  some  cottage  roof: 

Revive  our  dying  fires,  to  burn 

High  as  her  anthems  soar, 
And  of  our  scholars  let  us  learn 

Our  own  forgotten  lore. 

1  «  Start  "  :  stand.— R. 


ii4  FIRST  SUNDAY 

FIRST  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER 

Seemeth  it  but  a  small  thing  unto  you,  that  the  God 
of  Israel  hath  separated  you  from  the  congregation  of 
Israel,  to  bring  you  near  to  Himself?     Numbers  xvi.  9. 

THE   RESTLESS   PASTOR  REPROVED. 
June  25,  1825 — K.,  but  August  1818. — R. 

The  pastor  tempted  by  worldly  ambition  thanks 
God  for  winning  him  back  to  the  pastor's  life,  which 
is  intrusted  with  such  great  privileges,  and  which  finds 
comfort  and  protection  in  its  very  duties. 

The  best  comment  on  this  poem  is  to  be  found  in 
Dean  Church,  "  The  Oxford  Movement,"  p.  59.  "  He 
(I.  Williams)  had  before  him  in  John  Keble  a  spectacle 
that  was  absolutely  new  to  him.  Ambitious  as  a  rising 
and  successful  scholar  at  College,  he  saw  a  man  looked 
up  to  and  wondered  at  by  every  one,  absolutely  without 
pride  and  without  ambition.  He  saw  the  most  distin- 
guished academic  of  his  day,  to  whom  every  prospect 
was  open,  retiring  from  Oxford  in  the  height  of  his 
fame  to  busy  himself  with  a  few  hundreds  of  Glou- 
cestershire peasants  in  a  miserable  curacy.  He  saw 
this  man  caring  for  and  respecting  the  ignorant  and 
poor  as  much  as  others  respected  the  great  and 
learned." 

CIRST  Father  of  the  holy  seed, 
If  yet,  invoked  in  hour  of  need, 

Thou  count  me  for  Thine  own, 
Not  quite  an  outcast  if  I  prove, 
(Thou  joy'st  in  miracles  of  love,) 

Hear  from  Thy  mercy-throne  ! 

Upon  Thine  altar's  horn  of  gold 
Help  me  to  lay  my  trembling  hold, 

Though  stained  with  Christian  gore  ;  l — 
The  blood  of  souls  by  Thee  redeemed, 
But,  while  I  roved  or  idly  dreamed, 

Lost  to  be  found  no  more. 
1  Cf.  Ezekiel  xxxiii.  6. 


AFTER  EASTER  115 

For  oft,  when  summer  leaves  were  bright, 
And  every  flower  was  bathed  in  light, 

In  sunshine  moments  past, 
My  wilful  heart  would  burst  away 
From  where  the  holy  shadow  lay, 

Where  Heaven  my  lot  had  cast. 

I  thought  it  scorn  with  Thee  to  dwell, 
A  Hermit  in  a  silent  cell, 

While,  gaily  sweeping  by, 
Wild  Fancy  blew  his  bugle  strain, 
And  marshalled  all  his  gallant  train 

In  the  world's  wondering  eye. 

I  would  have  joined  him — but  as  oft 
Thy  whispered  warnings,  kind  and  soft, 

My  better  soul  confessed. 
"  My  servant,  let  the  world  alone — 
Safe  on  the  steps  of  Jesus'  throne 

Be  tranquil  and  be  blest. 

"  Seems  it  to  thee  a  niggard  hand 

That  nearest  Heaven  has  bade  thee  stand, 

The  ark  to  touch  and  bear, 
With  incense  of  pure  heart's  desire 
To  heap  the  censer's  sacred  fire, 

The  snow-white  Ephod  wear  ? " 

Why  should  we  crave  the  worldling's  wreath, 
On  whom  the  Saviour  deigned  to  breathe, 

To  whom  His  keys  were  given, 
Who  lead  the  choir  where  angels  meet, 
With  angels'  food  our  brethren  greet, 

And  pour  the  drink  of  Heaven  ? 

When  sorrow  all  our  heart  would  ask, 
We  need  not  shun  our  daily  task, 


n6       SECOND  SUNDAY 

And  hide  ourselves  for  calm  ; 
The  herbs  we  seek  to  heal  our  woe 
Familiar  by  our  pathway  grow, 

Our  common  air  is  balm. 

Around  each  pure  domestic  shrine 
Bright  flowers  of  Eden  bloom  and  twine, 

Our  hearths  are  altars  all  ; 
The  prayers  of  hungry  souls  and  poor, 
Like  arm£d  angels  at  the  door, 

Our  unseen  foes  appal.1 

Alms  all  around  and  hymns  within — 
What  evil  eye  can  entrance  win 

Where  guards  like  these  abound  ? 
If  chance  some  heedless  heart  should  roam, 
Sure,  thought  of  these  will  lure  it  home 

Ere  lost  in  Folly's  round. 

O  joys,  that,  sweetest  in  decay, 
Fall  not,  like  withered  leaves,  away, 

But  with  the  silent  breath 
Of  violets  drooping  one  by  one, 
Soon  as  their  fragrant  task  is  done, 

Are  wafted  high  in  death  ! 

SECOND  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER 

He  hath  said,  which  heard  the  words  of  God,  and 
knew  the  knowledge  of  the  Most  High,  which  saw  the 
vision  of  the  Almighty,  falling  into  a  trance,  but  having 
his  eyes  open :  I  shall  see  Him,  but  not  now :  I 
shall  behold  Him,  but  not  nigh :  there  shall  come 
a  Star  out  of  Jacob,  and  a  Sceptre  shall  rise  out  of 
Israel,  and  shall  smite  the  corners  of  Moab  and  destroy 
all  the  children  of  Sheth.     Numbers  xxiv.  16,  17. 

1  Cf.  Genesis  xix.  11. 


AFTER  EASTER  117 

BALAAM.  March  24,  1826. 
The  warning  of  Balaam — whom  neither  the  sight  oi 
God's  almighty  Power,  nor  the  prophetic  vision  could 
wean  from  avarice — leads  on  to  a  prayer  that  Christians 
who  see  more  than  Balaam  saw  may  answer  to  that 
knowledge  with  love. 

(~\  FOR  a  sculptor's  hand, 

^     That  thou  mightst  take  thy  stand, 
Thy  wild  hair  floating  on  the  eastern  breeze, 

Thy  tranced  yet  open  gaze 

Fixed  on  the  desert  haze, 
As  one  who  deep  in  heaven  some  airy  pageant 
sees. 

In  outline  dim  and  vast 

Their  fearful  shadows  cast 
The  giant  forms  of  empires  on  their  way 

To  ruin  :  one  by  one 

They  tower  and  they  are  gone, 
Yet  in  the  Prophet's  soul  the  dreams  of  avarice 
stay. 

No  sun  or  star  so  bright 

In  all  the  world  of  light 
That  they  should  draw  to  Heaven  his  down- 
ward eye : 

He  hears  the  Almighty's  word, 

He  sees  the  Angel's  sword, 
Yet  low  upon  the  earth  his  heart  and  treasure  lie. 

Lo,  from  yon  argent  field, 

To  him  and  us  revealed, 
One  gentle  Star  glides  down,  on  earth  to  dwell. 

Chained  as  they  are  below 

Our  eyes  may  see  it  glow, 
And  as  it  mounts  again,  may  track  its  brightness 
well. 


n8       SECOND  SUNDAY 

To  him  it  glared  afar, 

A  token  of  wild  war, 
The  banner  of  his  Lord's  victorious  wrath: 

But  close  to  us  it  gleams, 

Its  soothing  lustre  streams 
Around    our    home's    green    walls  and    on  our 
churchway  path. 

We  in  the  tents  abide 

Which  he  at  distance  eyed 
Like  goodly  cedars  by  the  waters  spread, 

While  seven  red  altar-fires 

Rose  up  in  wavy  spires, 
Where  on  the  mount  he  watched  his  sorceries 
dark  and  dread. 

He  watched  till  morning's  ray 

On  lake  and  meadow  lay 
And  willow-shaded  streams,  that  silent  sweep 

Around  the  bannered  lines, 

Where  by  their  several  signs 
The   desert-wearied   tribes  in    sight  of  Canaan 
sleep. 

He  watched  till  knowledge  came 

Upon  his  soul  like  flame — 
Not  of  those  magic  fires  at  random  caught : 

But  true  prophetic  light 

Flashed  o'er  him,  high  and  bright, 
Flashed    once,   and    died   away,    and    left    his 
darkened  thought. 

And  can  he  choose  but  fear, 
Who  feels  his  God  so  near, 


AFTER  EASTER  119 

That  when  he  fain  would  curse,  his  powerless 
tongue 
In  blessing  only  moves  ? — 
Alas  !   the  world  he  loves 
Too    close   around  his  heart  her   tangling    veil 
hath  flung. 

Sceptre  and  Star  divine, 

Who  in  Thine  inmost  shrine 
Hast  made  us  worshippers,  O  claim  Thine  own ; 

More  than  Thy  seers  we  know — 

O  teach  our  love  to  grow 
Up  to  Thy  heavenly  light,  and  reap  what  Thou 
hast  sown. 

THIRD  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER 

A  woman  when  she  is  in  travail  hath  sorrow,  because 
her  hour  is  come :  but  as  soon  as  she  is  delivered  of  the 
child,  she  remembereth  no  more  the  anguish,  for  joy- 
that  a  man  is  born  into  the  world.     S.  John  xvi.  21. 

LANGUOR  AND  TRAVAIL.     March  15,  1826. 
The   brightness    of  spring   checks    all   remorse  and 
despondency ;  so  the  thought  of  the  Incarnation  should 
fill  us  with  bright  hope  such  as  each  mother  feels  at  the 
birth  of  a  child. 

\A/ELL  may  I  guess  and  feel 

Why  Autumn  should  be  sad ; 
But  vernal  airs  should  sorrow  heal, 
Spring  should  be  gay  and  glad : 
Yet  as  along  this  violet  bank  I  rove, 

The    languid   sweetness    seems    to    choke 
my  breath, 
I  sit  me  down  beside  the  hazel  grove, 
And   sigh,  and  half  could  wish  my  weariness 
were  death. 


120        THIRD  SUNDAY 

Like  a  bright  veering  cloud 
Grey  blossoms  twinkle  there, 
Warbles  around  a  busy  crowd 
Of  larks  in  purest  air. 
Shame  on  the  heart  that  dreams  of  blessings 
gone, 
Or  wakes  the  spectral   forms  of  woe  and 
crime, 
When  nature  sings  of  joy  and  hope  alone, 
Reading  her  cheerful  lesson  in  her  own  sweet 
time. 

Nor  let  the  proud  heart  say, 
In  her  self-torturing  hour, 
The  travail  pangs  must  have  their  way, 
The  aching  brow  must  lower. 
To    us   long    since    the    glorious    Child    is 
born, 
Our    throes    should    be    forgot,    or    only 
seem 
Like  a  sad  vision  told  for  joy  at  morn, 
For  joy  that  we  have  waked  and  found  it  but  a 
dream. 

Mysterious  to  all  thought 
A  mother's  prime  of  bliss, 
When  to  her  eager  lips  is  brought 
Her  infant's  thrilling  kiss. 
O  never  shall  it  set,  the  sacred  light 

Which  dawns  that  moment  on  her  tender 
gaze, 
In  the  eternal  distance  blending  bright 
Her  darling's  hope  and  hers,  for  love  and  joy 
and  praise. 


AFTER  EASTER  121 

No  need  for  her  to  weep 

Like  Thracian  wives  of  yore,1 
Save  when  in  rapture  still  and  deep 
Her  thankful  heart  runs  o'er. 
They  mourned  to  trust  their  treasure  on  the 
main, 
Sure    of  the   storm,    unknowing    of  their 
guide : 
Welcome  to  her  the  peril  and  the  pain, 
For  well  she  knows  the  home  where  they  may 
safely  hide. 

She  joys  that  one  is  born 
Into  a  world  forgiven, 
Her  Father's  household  to  adorn, 
And  dwell  with  her  in  Heaven. 
So  have  I  seen,  in  Spring's  bewitching  hour, 

When  the  glad  earth  is  offering  all  her  best, 

Some  gentle  maid  bend  o'er  a  cherished  flower, 

And  wish  it  worthier  on  a  parent's  heart  to  rest. 

FOURTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER 

Nevertheless  I  tell  you  the  truth ;  It  is  expedient  for 
you  that  I  go  away :  for  if  I  go  not  away,  the  Com- 
forter will  not  come  unto  you ;  but  if  I  depart,  I  will 
send  Him  unto  you.     S.  John  xvi.  7. 

THE  DOVE  ON  THE  CROSS.     1820  or  1821. 

The  blessings  given  by  the  Holy  Spirit  compensate 
for  the  departure  of  Christ. 

1  Cf.  Herodotus  v.  4.  "  When  a  child  is  born,  its 
kindred  sit  round  about  it  in  a  circle  and  weep  for  the 
woe  it  will  have  to  undergo  now  that  it  is  come  into 
the  world,  making  mention  of  every  ill  that  falls  to  the 
lot  of  humankind." 


122       FOURTH  SUNDAY 

AAY  Saviour,  can  it  ever  be 

That  I  should  gain  by  losing  Thee  ? 
The  watchful  mother  tarries  nigh 
Though  sleep  have  closed  her  infant's  eye, 
For  should  he  wake,  and  find  her  gone, 
She  knows  she  could  not  bear  his  moan. 
But  I  am  weaker  than  a  child, 

And  Thou  art  more  than  mother  dear  ; 
Without  Thee  Heaven  were  but  a  wild  : 

How  can  I  live  without  Thee  here  ! 

"  'Tis  good  for  you,  that  I  should  go, 
You  lingering  yet  a  while  below  ;  " — 
'Tis  Thine  own  gracious  promise,  Lord ! 
Thy  saints  have  proved  the  faithful  word, 
When  Heaven's  bright  boundless  avenue 
Far  opened  on  their  eager  view, 
And  homeward  to  Thy  Father's  throne, 

Still  lessening,  brightening  on  their  sight, 
Thy  shadowy  car  went  soaring  on ; 

They  tracked  Thee  up  the  abyss  of  light. 

Thou  bidst  rejoice  ;  they  dare  not  mourn, 
But  to  their  home  in  gladness  turn, 
Their  home  and  God's,  that  favoured  place, 
Where  still  He  shines  on  Abraham's  race, 
In  prayers  and  blessings  there  to  wait 
Like  suppliants  at  their  monarch's  gate, 
Who,  bent  with  bounty  rare  to  aid 

The  splendours  of  His  crowning  day, 
Keeps  back  a  while  His  largess,  made 
More  welcome  for  that  brief  delay  : l 
1  Cf.  S.  Gregory  (quoted  in  I.  Williams,  "  The  Re- 
surrection," p.  93)  :  "  She  sought  the  body  and  found  it 
not:  she  persevered  in  seeking,  and  by  this  perseverance 
she  finds  :  and  so  it  is  brought  about  that  the  fulfilment 


AFTER  EASTER  123 

In  doubt  they  wait,  but  not  unblest ; 
They  doubt  not  of  their  Master's  rest, 
Nor  of  the  gracious  will  of  Heaven — 
Who  gave  His  Son,  sure  all  has  given — 
But  in  ecstatic  awe  they  muse 
What  course  the  genial  stream  may  choose, 
And  far  and  wide  their  fancies  rove, 

And  to  their  height  of  wonder  strain, 
What  secret  miracle  of  love 

Should  make  their  Saviour's  going  gain. 

The  days  of  hope  and  prayer  are  past, 
The  day  of  comfort  dawns  at  last, 
The  everlasting  gates  again 
Roll  back,  and  lo  !   a  royal  train — 
From  the  far  depth  of  light  once  more 
The  floods  of  glory  earthward  pour  : 
They  part  like  shower-drops  in  mid  air, 

But  ne'er  so  soft  fell  noon-tide  shower, 
Nor  evening  rainbow  gleamed  so  fair 

To  weary  swains  in  parched  bower. 

Swiftly  and  straight  each  tongue  of  flame 

Through  cloud  and  breeze  unwavering  came. 

And  darted  to  its  place  of  rest 

On  some  meek  brow  of  Jesus  blest. 

Nor  fades  it  yet,  that  living  gleam, 

And  still  those  lambent  lightnings  stream  ; 

Where'er  the  Lord  is,  there  are  they  ; 

In  every  heart  that  gives  them  room, 
They  light  His  altar  every  day, 

Zeal  to  inflame  and  vice  consume, 
of  her  longings  being  deferred,  they  are  increased  there- 
by and  thus  capable  of  receiving  what  she  finds.     For 
holy  longings  are  increased  by  being  deferred."   (Homil : 
in  Evang.  xxv.  §  2). 


i24       FOURTH  SUNDAY 

Soft  as  the  plumes  of  Jesus'  Dove 
They  nurse  the  soul  to  heavenly  love : 
The  struggling  spark  of  good  within, 
Just  smothered  in  the  strife  of  sin, 
They  quicken  to  a  timely  glow, 
The  pure  flame  spreading  high  and  low. 
Said  I,  that  prayer  and  hope  were  o'er  ? 

Nay,  blessed  Spirit !   but  by  Thee 
The  Church's  prayer  finds  wings  to  soar, 

The  Church's  hope  finds  eyes  to  see. 

Then,  fainting  soul,  arise  and  sing ; 

Mount,  but  be  sober  on  the  wing  ; 

Mount  up,  for  Heaven  is  won  by  prayer, 

Be  sober,  for  thou  art  not  there  ; 

Till  Death  the  weary  spirit  free, 

Thy  God  hath  said,  "  'Tis  good  for  thee 

To  walk  by  faith  and  not  by  sight  "  : 

Take  it  on  trust  a  little  while  ; 
Soon  shalt  thou  read  the  mystery  right 

In  the  full  sunshine  of  His  smile. 

Or  if  thou  yet  more  knowledge  crave, 
Ask  thine  own  heart,  that  willing  slave 
To  all  that  works  thee  woe  or  harm : 
Shouldst  thou  not  need  some  mighty  charm 
To  win  thee  to  thy  Saviour's  side, 
Though  He  had  deigned  with  thee  to  bide  ? 
The  Spirit  must  stir  the  darkling  deep, 

The  Dove  must  settle  on  the  Cross, 
Else  we  should  all  sin  on  or  sleep 

With  Christ  in  sight,  turning  our  gain  to  loss. 


AFTER  EASTER  125 

FIFTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER 

ROGATION  SUNDAY 
And  the  Lord  was  very  angry  with  Aaron  to  have 
destroyed  him  :  and  I  prayed  for  Aaron  also  the  same 
time. — Deuteronomy  ix.  20. 

THE  PRIEST'S  INTERCESSOR.— June  3,  1824. 
— K.  June  25. — R. 
Like  the  clear  note  of  a  bird  rising  on  a  summer's 
day  before  a  shower,  so  should  the  voice  of  the  Church 
go  up  in  the  Rogation  days  before  the  gifts  of  Ascension 
Day,  praying  for  more  devotion,  on  the  part  of  all  her 
children,  but  especially  of  her  priests  ;  lest  the  offended 
Christ  should  come  in  wrath  to  judge  her. 

MOW    is   there    solemn   pause   in  earth   and 
Heaven : 
The  Conqueror  now 
His  bonds  hath  riven, 
And  Angels  wonder  why  He  stays  below  : 
Yet  hath  not  man  his  lesson  learned, 
How  endless  love  should  be  returned. 

Deep  is  the  silence  as  of  summer  noon, 
When  a  soft  shower 
Will  trickle  soon, 
A  gracious  rain,  freshening  the  weary  bower — 
O  sweetly  then  far  off  is  heard 
The  clear  note  of  some  lonely  bird. 

So  let  thy  turtle-dove's  sad  call  arise 
In  doubt  and  fear 
Through  darkening  skies, 
And  pierce,  O  Lord,  Thy  justly  sealed  ear, 
Where  on  the  house  top,1  all  night  long, 
She  trills  her  widowed,  faltering  song. 
1  Psalm  cii.  7. 


126         FIFTH  SUNDAY 

Teach  her  to  know  and  love  her  hour  of  prayer, 
And  evermore, 
As  faith  grows  rare, 
Unlock  her  heart  and  offer  all  its  store 
In  holier  love  and  humbler  vows, 
As  suits  a  lost  returning  spouse.1 

Not  as  at  first,2  but  with  intenser  cry, 
Upon  the  mount 
She  now  must  lie, 
Till  Thy  dear  love  to  blot  the  sad  account 
Of  her  rebellious  race  be  won, 
Pitying  the  mother  in  the  son.8 

But  chiefly  (for  she  knows  Thee  angered  worst 
By  holiest  things 
Profaned  and  curst) 
Chiefly  for  Aaron's  seed  she  spreads  her  wings, 
If  but  one  leaf  she  may  from  Thee 
Win  of  the  reconciling  tree. 

For  what  shall  heal,  when  holy  water  banes  ? 

Or  who  may  guide 

O'er  desert  plains 

Thy  loved  yet  sinful  people  wandering  wide, 

If  Aaron's  hand  unshrinking  mould 

An  idol  form  of  earthly  gold  ?  4 

1  Cf.  Hosea  ii.  7. 

2  I  fell  down  before  the  Lord  forty  days  and  forty 
nights,  as  I  fell  down  at  the  first.  Deuteronomy 
ix.  25. 

3  Pitying  the  traces  of  the  mother  that  still  remain 
in  her  erring  son  :  i.e.  pardoning  sinners  in  the  strength 
of  His  love  for  the  Church. 

4  Exodus  xxxii.  4. 


AFTER  EASTER  127 

Therefore  her  tears  are  bitter,  and  as  deep 
Her  boding  sigh, 
As,  while  men  sleep, 
Sad-hearted  mothers  heave,  that  wakeful  lie, 
To  muse  upon  some  darling  child 
Roaming  in  youth's  uncertain  wild. 

Therefore  on  fearful  dreams  her  inward  sight 
Is  fain  to  dwell — 
What  lurid  light 
Shall  the  last  darkness  of  the  world  dispel, 
The  Mediator  in  His  wrath 
Descending  down  the  lightning's  path. 

Yet,  yet  awhile,  offended  Saviour,  pause ; 
In  act  to  break 1 
Thine  outraged  laws, 
O  spare  Thy  rebels  for  Thine  own  dear  sake  ; 
Withdraw  thine  hand,  nor  dash  to  earth 
The  covenant  of  our  second  birth. 

'Tis  forfeit  like  the  first — we  own  it  all — 

Yet  for  love's  sake, 

Let  it  not  fall ; 

But  at  Thy  touch  let  veiled  hearts  awake, 

That  nearest  to  Thine  altar  lie, 

Yet  least  of  holy  things  descry. 

Teacher  of  teachers !    Priest  of  priests !   from 
Thee 
The  sweet  strong  prayer 
Must  rise  to  free 
First  Levi,  then  all  Israel,  from  the  snare. 
Thou  art  our  Moses  out  of  sight — 
Speak  for  us,  or  we  perish  quite. 
1  Exodus  xxxii.  19. 


128        ASCENSION  DAY 


ASCENSION  DAY 

Why  stand  ye  gazing  up  into  Heaven?  this  same 
Jesus,  which  is  taken  up  from  you  into  Heaven,  shall 
so  come  in  like  manner  as  ye  have  seen  Him  go  into 
Heaven.     Acts  L  n. 

ASCENSION  DAY.     June  18,  1825. 

As  the  eye  follows  the  cloud  in  the  morning  sky,  so 
the  soul  follows  the  Ascended  Lord  ;  and  it  sees  him 
adored  by  all  the  hosts  of  Heaven,  and  yet  listening  to 
each  suppliant's  prayer.  So  we  turn  back  from  such 
contemplation  to  help  human  sorrow,  till  the  time 
comes  when,  after  this  life,  we  may  contemplate  Him 
with  worthier  love  and  praise. 

COFT  cloud,  that  while  the  breeze  of  May 
Chants  her  glad  matins  in  the  leafy  arch, 
Draw'st  thy  bright  veil  across  the  heavenly 
way, 
Meet  pavement  for  an  Angel's  glorious  march  : 

My  soul  is  envious  of  mine  eye, 
That  it  should  soar  and  glide  with  thee  so  fast, 
The  while  my  grovelling  thoughts  half  buried 
lie, 
Or  lawless  roam  around  this  earthly  waste. 

Chains  of  my  heart,  avaunt  I  say — 
I  will  arise,  and  in  the  strength  of  love 

Pursue  the  bright  track  ere  it  fade  away, 
My  Saviour's  pathway  to  His  home  above. 

Sure,  when  I  reach  the  point  where  earth 
Melts  into  nothing  from  the  uncumbered  sight, 
Heaven  will    o'ercome  the  attraction  of  my 
birth, 
And  I  shall  sink  in  yonder  sea  of  light : 


ASCENSION  DAY         129 

Till  resting  by  the  incarnate  Lord, 
Once  bleeding,  now  triumphant  for  my  sake, 
I  mark  Him,  how  by  seraph  hosts  adored 
He  to  earth's  lowest  cares  is  still  awake. 

The  sun  and  every  vassal  star, 
All  space,  beyond  the  soar  of  angel  wings, 

Wait  on  His  word :  and  yet  He  stays  His  car 
For  every  sigh  a  contrite  suppliant  brings.1 

He  listens  to  the  silent  tear 
For  all  the  anthems  of  the  boundless  sky — 

And  shall  our  dreams  of  music  bar  our  ear 
To  His  soul-piercing  voice  for  ever  nigh  ? 2 

Nay,  gracious  Saviour — but  as  now 
Our  thoughts  have  traced  Thee  to  Thy  glory- 
throne, 
So  help  us  evermore  with  Thee  to  bow 
Where  human  sorrow  breathes  her  lowly  moan. 

We  must  not  stand  to  gaze  too  long, 
Though  on  unfolding  Heaven  our  gaze  we  bend, 

Where  lost  behind  the  bright  angelic  throng 
We  see  Christ's  entering  triumph  slow  ascend. 

No  fear  but  we  shall  soon  behold, 
Faster  than  now  it  fades,  that  gleam  revive, 
When  issuing  from  his  cloud  of  fiery  gold 
Our  wasted  frames  feel  the  true  sun,  and  live. 

Then  shall  we  see  Thee  as  Thou  art, 
For  ever  fixed  in  no  unfruitful  gaze, 

But  such  as  lifts  the  new-created  heart, 
Age  after  age,  in  worthier  love  and  praise. 

1  Cf.  Isaiah  lvii.  15. 

2  "  To  His  soul-piercing  voice  "  :  "  To  duty's  wakeful 
voice."— MSS. 


130         SUNDAY  AFTER 


SUNDAY  AFTER  ASCENSION 

As  every  man  hath  received  the  gift,  even  so  minister 
the  same  one  to  another,  as  good  stewards  of  the  mani- 
fold grace  of  God.      1  S.  Peter  iv.  10. 

SEED-TIME.     June  25,  1824. 

Earth  renders  her  due  return  to  God  for  every  seed 
Intrusted  to  her  care,  and  rebukes  our  hearts  which 
make  so  little  return.  God's  gifts  are  liberal  and  wise, 
divided  severally  to  each  ;  and  our  charity  should  give 
with  equal  liberality  and  wisdom,  pointing  each  to  the 
unspent  treasures  of  God's  love.  So  was  it  with  the 
early  Church,  which  waited  prayerfully  until  the  gifts 
of  the  Spirit  came,  and  then  gave  back  in  active  service 
to  Him  all  that  He  gave  to  them. 

'X'HE  earth  that  in  her  genial  breast 

Makes  for  the  down  a  kindly  nest, 
Where  wafted  by  the  warm  south-west 

It  floats  at  pleasure, 
Yields,  thankful,  of  her  very  best, 

To  nurse  her  treasure  : 

True  to  her  trust,  tree,  herb,  or  reed, 
She  renders  for  each  scattered  seed, 
And  to  her  Lord  with  duteous  heed 

Gives  large  increase  : 
Thus  year  by  year  she  works  unfee'd, 

And  will  not  cease. 

Woe  worth  these  barren  hearts  of  ours, 
Where  Thou  hast  set  celestial  flowers, 
And  watered  with  more  balmy  showers 

Than  e'er  distilled 
In  Eden  on  the  ambrosial  bowers — 

Yet  naught  we  yield. 


ASCENSION  131 

Largely  Thou  givest,  gracious  Lord, 
Largely  Thy  gifts  should  be  restored  ; 
Freely  Thou  givest,  and  Thy  word 

Is,  "  Freely  give."  1 
He  only  who  forgets  to  hoard 

Has  learned  to  live. 

Wisely  Thou  givest ;  all  around 
Thine  equal  rays  are  resting  found, 
Yet  varying  so  on  various  ground 

They  pierce  and  strike, 
That  not  two  roseate  cups  are  crowned 

With  dew  alike : 

Even  so,  in  silence,  likest  Thee, 
Steals  on  soft-handed  Charity, 
Tempering  her  gifts,  that  seem  so  free, 

By  time  and  place, 
Till  not  a  woe  the  bleak  world  see 

But  finds  her  grace  : 

Eyes  to  the  blind,  and  to  the  lame 
Feet,  and  to  sinners  wholesome  blame, 
To  starving  bodies  food  and  flame 

By  turns  she  brings, 
To  humbled  souls,  that  sink  for  shame, 

Lends  heavenward  wings  : 

Leads  them  the  way  our  Saviour  went, 
And  shews  Love's  treasure  yet  unspent, 
As  when  the  unclouded  heavens  were  rent 

Opening  His  road, 
Nor  yet  His  Holy  Spirit  sent 

To  our  abode. 

1  S.  Matthew  x.  8. 


132  ASCENSION 

Ten  days  the  eternal  doors  displayed 
Were  wondering  (so  the  Almighty  bade) 
Whom  Love  enthroned  would  send,  in  aid 

Of  souls  that  mourn, 
Left  orphans  in  earth's  dreary  shade 

As  soon  as  born. 

Open  they  stand,  that  prayers  in  throngs 
May  rise  on  high,  and  holy  songs, 
Such  incense  as  of  right  belongs 

To  the  true  shrine, 
Where  stands  the  Healer  of  all  wrongs 

In  light  divine  ; 

The  golden  censer  in  His  hand, 
He  offers  hearts  from  every  land, 
Tied  to  His  own  by  gentlest  band 

Of  silent  Love  : 
About  Him  winged  blessings  stand 

In  act  to  move. 

A  little  while,  and  they  shall  fleet 
From  Heaven  to  earth,  attendants  meet 
On  the  life-giving  Paraclete, 

Speeding  His  flight, 
With  all  that  sacred  is  and  sweet, 

On  saints  to  light. 

Apostles,  Prophets,  Pastors,  all 
Shall  feel  the  shower  of  Mercy  fall, 
And,  starting  at  the  Almighty's  call, 

Give  what  He  gave, 
Till  their  high  deeds  the  world  appal, 

And  sinners  save. 


WHITSUNDAY 


WHITSUNDAY 


33 


And  suddenly  there  came  a  sound  frem  Heaven  as  of 
a  rushing  mighty  wind,  and  it  filled  all  the  house  where 
they  were  sitting.  And  there  appeared  unto  them 
cloven  tongues  like  as  of  fire,  and  it  sat  upon  each 
of  them.  And  they  were  all  filled  with  the  Holy 
Ghost.    Acts  ii.  t,  3,  4. 

1 81 9  or  1820. 

The  first  manifestation  of  God  on  Sinai  in  power 
and  wrath  is  contrasted  with  the  second  manifestation- 
in  power  and  love  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  and  leads 
to  a  prayer  that  our  ears  may  listen  to  the  Spirit's 
harmonies. 

\A/HEN  God  of  old    came  down  from 
Heaven, 

In  power  and  wrath  He  came ; 
Before  His  feet  the  clouds  were  riven, 

Half  darkness  and  half  flame : 

Around  the  trembling  mountain's  base 

The  prostrate  people  lay, 
A  day  of  wrath,  and  not  of  grace  ; 

A  dim  and  dreadful  day. 

But  when  He  came  the  second  time, 
He  came  in  power  and  love, 

Softer  than  gale  at  morning  prime 
Hovered  His  holy  Dove. 

The  fires  that  rushed  on  Sinai  down 

In  sudden  torrents  dread, 
Now  gently  light,  a  glorious  crown, 

On  every  sainted  head. 


34 


WHITSUNDAY 


Like  arrows  went  those  lightnings  forth 
Winged  with  the  sinner's  doom, 

But  these,  like  tongues,  o'er  all  the  earth 
Proclaiming  life  to  come  : 

And  as  on  Israel's  awe-struck  ear 

The  voice  exceeding  loud, 
The  trump,  that  angels  quake  to  hear, 

Thrilled  from  the  deep,  dark  cloud ; 

So,  when  the  Spirit  of  our  God 

Came  down  His  flock  to  find, 
A  voice  from  Heaven  was  heard  abroad, 

A  rushing,  mighty  wind. 

Nor  doth  the  outward  ear  alone 

At  that  high  warning  start ; 
Conscience  gives  back  the  appalling  tone ; 

'Tis  echoed  in  the  heart. 

It  fills  the  Church  of  God  ;  it  fills 

The  sinful  world  around  ; 
Only  in  stubborn  hearts  and  wills 

No  place  for  it  is  found. 

To  other  strains  our  souls  are  set ; 

A  giddy  whirl  of  sin 
Fills  ear  and  brain,  and  will  not  let 

Heaven's  harmonies  come  in. 

Come,  Lord,  come  Wisdom,  Love,  and  Power. 

Open  our  ears  to  hear  ; 
Let  us  not  miss  the  accepted  hour ; 

Save,  Lord,  by  Love  or  Fear. 


WHITSUN-WEEK         135 
MONDAY  IN  WHITSUN-WEEK 

So  the  Lord  scattered  them  abroad  from  thence  upon 
the  face  of  all  the  earth :  and  they  left  off  to  build  the 
city.     Genesis  xi.  8. 

THE  CITY  OF  CONFUSION.     Feb.  25,  1826.— 

Hursley. 

The  ruins  of  Babylon — not  graceful  and  picturesque, 
as  we  should  wish  for  scenes  dear  to  our  affections,  but 
forlorn  and  weary  and  the  home  of  wild  beasts — are 
a  proof  of  God's  complete  overthrow  of  the  world's 
ambitious  Empires.  Only  one  Empire  is  permanent, 
the  Empire  of  Christ ;  only  one  ambition  is  rewarded, 
the  ambition  to  overcome  self. 

CINCE  all  that  is  not  Heaven  must  fade, 
^      Light  be  the  hand  of  Ruin  laid 

Upon  the  home  I  love : 
With  lulling  spell  let  soft  decay 
Steal  on,  and  spare  the  giant  sway,1 

The  crash  of  tower  and  grove. 

Far  opening  down  some  woodland  deep 
In  their  own  quiet  glade  should  sleep 

The  relics  dear  to  thought, 
And  wild-flower  wreaths  from  side  to  side 
Their  waving  tracery  hang,  to  hide 

What  ruthless  Time  has  wrought. 

Such  are  the  visions  green  and  sweet 
That  o'er  the  wistful  fancy  fleet 

In  Asia's  sea-like  plain, 
Where  slowly,  round  his  isles  of  sand, 
Euphrates  through  the  lonely  land 

Winds  toward  the  pearly  main. 

1  i.e.  "Spare  the  terrific  sweep  of  the  blow,"  cf. 
Milton  Par.  Lost,  vi.  251:  or,  "spare  the  terrible 
swaying  of  tower  and  grove." 


136  MONDAY  IN 

Slumber  is  there,  but  not  of  rest ; 
There  her  forlorn  and  weary  nest 

The  famished  hawk  has  found, 
The  wild  dog  howls  at  fall  of  night, 
The  serpent's  rustling  coils  affright 

The  traveller  on  his  round. 

What  shapeless  form,  half  lost  on  high,1 
Half  seen  against  the  evening  sky, 

Seems  like  a  ghost  to  glide, 
And  watch,  from  Babel's  crumbling  heap, 
Where  in  her  shadow,  fast  asleep, 

Lies  fallen  imperial  Pride  ? 

With  half-closed  eye  a  lion  there 
Is  basking  in  his  noontide  lair, 

Or  prowls  in  twilight  gloom. 
The  golden  city's  king  he  seems, 
Such  as  in  old  prophetic  dreams  2 

Sprang  from  rough  ocean's  womb. 

But  where  are  now  his  eagle  wings, 
That  sheltered  erst  a  thousand  kings, 

Hiding  the  glorious  sky 
From  half  the  nations,  till  they  own 
No  holier  name,  no  mightier  throne  ? 

That  vision  is  gone  by. 

1  See  Sir  R.  K.  Porter's  "  Travels,"  ii.  387.  "  In  my 
second  visit  to  Birs  Nimrood,  my  party  suddenly  halted, 
having  descried  several  dark  objects  moving  along  the 
summit  of  its  hill,  which  they  construed  into  dismounted 
Arabs  on  the  look-out :  I  took  out  my  glass  to  examine, 
and  soon  distinguished  that  the  causes  of  our  alarm  were 
two  or  three  majestic  lions,  taking  the  air  upon  the 
heights  of  the  pyramid." — J.  K. 

2  Daniel  vii.  4. 


WHITSUN-WEEK         137 

Quenched  is  the  golden  statue's  ray,1 
The  breath  of  Heaven  has  blown  away 

What  toiling  earth  had  piled, 
Scattering  wise  heart  and  crafty  hand, 
As  breezes  strew  on  ocean's  sand 

The  fabrics  of  a  child. 

Divided  thence  through  every  age 
Thy  rebels,  Lord,  their  warfare  wage, 

And  hoarse  and  jarring  all 
Mount  up  their  heaven-assailing  cries 
To  thy  bright  watchmen  in  the  skies 

From  Babel's  shattered  wall. 

Thrice  only  since,  with  blended  might 
The  nations  on  that  haughty  height 

Have  met  to  scale  the  Heaven  : 
Thrice  only  might  a  seraph's  look 
A  moment's  shade  of  sadness  brook — 

Such  power  to  guilt  was  given. 

Now  the  fierce  bear  and  leopard  keen  2 
Are  perished  as  they  ne'er  had  been, 

Oblivion  is  their  home  : 
Ambition's  boldest  dream  and  last 
Must  melt  before  the  clarion  blast 

That  sounds  the  dirge  of  Rome. 

Heroes  and  kings,  obey  the  charm, 
Withdraw  the  proud  high-reaching  arm  ; 

1  Daniel  ii.  and  iii. 

2  Dan.  vii.  5,  6.  This  is  based  on  the  traditional 
interpretation  of  the  four  beasts,  as  signifying  the 
Chaldaean,  Persian,  Gretk;  and  Roman  Empires. 


138  TUESDAY  IN 

There  is  an  oath  on  high, 
That  ne'er  on  brow  of  mortal  birth 
Shall  blend  again  the  crowns  of  earth, 

Nor  in  according  cry. 

Her  many  voices  mingling  own 
One  tyrant  lord,  one  idol  throne  : 

But  to  His  triumph  soon 
He  shall  descend  who  rules  above, 
And  the  pure  language  of  His  love 1 

All  tongues  of  men  shall  tune. 

Nor  let  Ambition  heartless  mourn  ; 
When  Babel's  very  ruins  burn, 

Her  high  desires  may  breathe  : — 
O'ercome  thyself,  and  thou  mayst  share 
With  Christ  His  Father's  throne,2  and  wear 

The  world's  imperial  wreath. 

TUESDAY  IN  WHITSUN-WEEK 

When  He  putteth  forth  His  own  sheep,  He  goeth 
before  them.     S.  John  x.  4. 

HOLY  ORDERS.     1825. 
The  Lord's  life  a  pattern  to  all  pastors — to  prevent 
them  from  despondency. 

(addressed  to  candidates  for  ordination.) 

"  I   ORD,  in  thy  field  I  work  all  day, 

I  read,  I  teach,  I  warn,  I  pray, 

And  yet  these  wilful  wandering  sheep 

Within  Thy  fold  I  cannot  keep. 

1  Then  will  I  turn  to  the  people  a  pure  language, 
that  they  may  all  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord,  to 
serve  Him  with  one  consent.     Zephaniah  iii.  9. 

2  To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  grant  to  sit  with 
Me  in  My  throne.     Revelation  iii.  21. 


WHITSUN-WEEK         139 

"  I  journey,  yet  no  step  is  won — 
Alas  !   the  weary  course  I  run  ! 
Like  sailors  shipwrecked  in  their  dreams, 
All  powerless  and  benighted  seems. " 

What  ?  wearied  out  with  half  a  life  ? 
Scared  with  this  smooth  unbloody  strife  ? 
Think  where  thy  coward  hopes  had  flown 
Had  Heaven  held  out  the  martyr's  crown. 

How  couldst  thou  hang  upon  the  Cross, 
To  whom  a  weary  hour  is  loss  ? 
Or  how  the  thorns  and  scourging  brook, 
Who  shrinkest  from  a  scornful  look  ? 

Yet,  ere  thy  craven  spirit  faints, 
Hear  thine  own  King — the  King  of  saints  ; 
Though  thou  wert  toiling  in  the  grave, 
'Tis  He  can  cheer  thee,  He  can  save. 

He  is  the  eternal  mirror  bright, 
Where  angels  view  the  Father's  light, 
And  yet  in  Him  the  simplest  swain 
May  read  his  homely  lesson  plain. 

Early  to  quit  His  home  on  earth, 
And  claim  His  high  celestial  birth, 
Alone  with  His  true  Father  found 
Within  the  Temple's  solemn  round  : — 

Yet  in  meek  duty  to  abide 

For  many  a  year  at  Mary's  side, 

Nor  heed,  though  restless  spirits  ask, 

"  What  ?  hath  the  Christ  forgot  His  task  ? 


?  » 


14©  TUESDAY  IN 

Conscious  of  Deity  within, 

To  bow  before  an  heir  of  sin, 

With  folded  arms  on  humble  breast, 

By  His  own  servant  washed  and  blest :  — 

Then  full  of  Heaven,  the  mystic  Dove 
Hovering  His  gracious  brow  above, 
To  shun  the  voice  and  eye  of  praise, 
And  in  the  wild  His  trophies  raise : — 

With  hymns  of  angels  in  his  ears, 
Back  to  His  task  of  woe  and  tears, 
Unmurmuring  through  the  world  to  roam 
With  not  a  wish  or  thought  at  home : — I 

All  but  Himself  to  heal  and  save, 
Till,  ripened  for  the  Cross  and  grave, 
He  to  His  Father  gently  yield 
The  breath  that  our  redemption  sealed  : — 

Then  to  unearthly  life  arise, 
Yet  not  at  once  to  seek  the  skies, 
But  glide  a  while  from  saint  to  saint, 
Lest  on  our  lonely  way  we  faint ; 

And  through  the  cloud  by  glimpses  shew 
How  bright,  in  Heaven,  the  marks  will  glow 
Of  the  true  Cross,  imprinted  deep 
Both  on  the  Shepherd  and  the  sheep : — 

When  out  of  sight,  in  heart  and  prayer 
Thy  chosen  people  still  to  bear, 
And  from  behind  Thy  glorious  veil 
Shed  light  that  cannot  change  or  fail : — 

1  "  At  home,"  i.e.  without  a  thought  or  wish  limited 
to  Himself  and  His  own  interests.  Compare  the  taunt, 
"He  saved  others:  Himself  He  cannot  save." 


■     WHITSUN-WEEK         141 

This  is  Thy  pastoral  course,  O  Lord, 
Till  we  be  saved,  and  Thou  adored  ; — 
Thy  course  and  ours — but  who  are  they 
Who  follow  on  the  narrow  way  ? 

And  yet  of  Thee  from  year  to  year 
The  Church's  solemn  chant  we  hear, 
As  from  Thy  cradle  to  Thy  throne 
She  swells  her  high  heart-cheering  tone. 

Listen,  ye  pure  white-robed  souls, 
Whom  in  her  list l  she  now  enrolls, 
And  gird  ye  for  your  high  emprize 
By  these  her  thrilling  minstrelsies. 

And  wheresoe'er,  in  earth's  wide  field, 
Ye  lift,  for  Him,  the  red-cross  shield,2 
Be  this  your  song,  your  joy  and  pride — 
"  Our  Champion  went  before  and  died." 

TRINITY  SUNDAY 

If  I  have  told  you  earthly  things,  and  ye  believe  not, 
how  shall  ye  believe,  if  I  tell  you  of  heavenly  things  ? 

S.  John  iii.  12. 
March  3,  1826. 

The  course  of  the  Church's  festivals  brings  us  at  last 
to  gaze  on  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity ;  we  are  like 
travellers  whose  vision  is  tangled  in  the  woods,  but  who 
catch,  through  the  network  of  the  branches,  dreamlike 
glimpses  of  the  bright  scene  beyond  ;  or  as  worshippers 
who  stand  outside  the  choir  up  to  which  the  three  aisles 
have  led  them,  and  listen  in  adoration  to  the  worship 
that  is  going  on  within.  As  we  worship,  we  find 
peace  such  as  the  world  does  not  know,  for  the  un filial 

1  "List":  but  "lists."     K.3. 

2  "Red-cross  shield."  The  allusion  is  to  the  Red- 
Cross  Knight  of  Spenser's  "  Faery  Queen." 


1 42       TRINITY  SUNDAY 

or  envious  or  gloomy  heart  can  never  delight  in  the 
Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.  Keep  us  then  at  Thy  side,  O 
blessed  Trinity. 

The  three-lined  metre  is  evidently  adapted  to  the 
subject.  It  is  not  found  elsewhere  in  the  "  Christian 
Year." 

/CREATOR,  Saviour,  strengthening  Guide, 

Now  on  Thy  mercy's  ocean  wide 
Far  out  of  sight  we  seem  to  glide. 

Help  us,  each  hour,  with  steadier  eye 
To  search  the  deepening  mystery, 
The  wonders  of  Thy  sea  and  sky. 

The  blessM  angels  look  and  long 
To  praise  Thee  with  a  worthier  song, 
And  yet  our  silence  does  Thee  wrong.1 


Along  the  Church's  central  space 
The  sacred  weeks  with  unfelt  pace 
Have  borne  us  on  from  grace  to  grace. 

As  travellers  on  some  woodland  height, 
When  wintry  suns  are  gleaming  bright, 
Lose  in  arched  glades  their  tangled  sight : 

By  glimpses  such  as  dreamers  love 
Through  her  grey  veil  the  leafless  grove 
Shews  where  the  distant  shadows  rove ; 

Such  trembling  joy  the  soul  o'erawes 
As  nearer  to  Thy  shrine  she  draws : 
And  now  before  the  choir  we  pause. 

1  Cf.  S.  Augustine,"  Confess." i.  c.  4.    Et  vae  tacenti- 
bus  de  te,  quoniam  loquaces  muti  sunt. 


TRINITY  SUNDAY       143 

The  door  is  closed — but  soft  and  deep 
Around  the  awful  arches  sweep 
Such  airs  as  soothe  a  hermit's  sleep. 

From  each  carved  nook  and  fretted  bend 

Cornice  and  gallery  seem  to  send 

Tones  that  with  seraph  hymns  might  blend. 

Three  solemn  parts  together  twine 

In  harmony's  mysterious  line  ; 

Three  solemn  aisles  approach  the  shrine : 

Yet  all  are  One — together  all, 

In  thoughts  that  awe  but  not  appal, 

Teach  the  adoring  heart  to  fall. 

Within  these  walls  each  fluttering  guest 
Is  gently  lured  to  one  safe  nest — 
Without,  'tis  moaning1  and  unrest. 

The  busy  world  a  thousand  ways 

Is  hurrying  by,  nor  ever  stays 

To  catch  a  note  of  Thy  dear  praise. 

Why  tarries  not  her  chariot  wheel, 
That  o'er  her  with  no  vain  appeal 
One  gust  of  heavenly  song  might  steal  ? 

Alas  !   for  her  Thy  opening  flowers 
Unheeded  breathe  to  summer  showers, 
Unheard  the  music  of  Thy  bowers. 

What  echoes  from  the  sacred  dome 
The  selfish  spirit  may  o'ercome 
That  will  not  hear  of  love  or  home  ? 

1  "  Moaning  " :  "wildering."—  MSS. 


i44  FIRST  SUNDAY 

The  heart  that  scorned  a  father's  care, 
How  can  it  rise  in  filial  prayer  ? 
How  an  all-seeing  Guardian  bear  ? 

Or  how  shall  envious  brethren  own 
A  Brother  *  on  the  eternal  throne, 
Their  Father's  joy,  their  hope  alone  ? 

How  shall  Thy  Spirit's  gracious  wile 
The  sullen  brow  of  gloom  beguile, 
That  frowns  on  sweet  affection's  smile  ? 

Eternal  One,  Almighty  Trine  ! 

(Since  thou  art  ours,  and  we  are  Thine) 

By  all  Thy  love  did  once  resign, 

By  all  the  grace  Thy  heavens  still  hide, 
We  pray  Thee,  keep  us  at  Thy  side, 
Creator,  Saviour,  strengthening  Guide  ! 


FIRST  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY 

So  Joshua  smote  all  the  country  .  .  .  and  all  their 
kings  :  he  left  none  remaining.     Joshua  x.  40. 

ISRAEL  AMONG  THE  RUINS  OF  CANAAN. 
Jan.  27,  1826. — Hursley. 

A  prayer  against  sadness.  As  the  Israelite  found  the 
Promised  Land  of  milk,  and  honey  to  be  full  of  ruins 
and  decay,  so  the  Christian  has  entered  into  the 
promised  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  in  which  the  whole 
Trinity  unites  to  bless  him,  yet  still  finds  clouds,  dis- 
appointment, and  fading  joys.     May  God  then  open 

1  "Brother":  "a  child  upon  the  eternal  throne." — 
MSS.  There  is  doubtless  an  allusion  to  Joseph's 
brethren.     Cf.   Genesis   xxxvii.   3-1  r. 


AFTER  TRINITY         145 

our  eyes  to  see  the  blessings  around  us  and  to  press  on 
to  the  eternal  bourne. 

\A/HERE  is  the  land  with  milk  and  honey 
*  v  flowing, 

The  promise  of  our  God,  our  fancy's  theme  ? 
Here  over  shattered  walls  dank  weeds  are  growing, 
And  blood  and  fire  have  run  in  mingled  stream ; 
Like  oaks  and  cedars  all  around 
The  giant  corses  strew  the  ground, 
And  haughty  Jericho's  cloud-piercing  wall 
Lies  where  it  sank  at  Joshua's  trumpet  call. 

These  are  not  scenes  for  pastoral  dance  at  even, 
For  moonlight  rovings  in  the  fragrant  glades, 
Soft  slumbers  in  the  open  eye  of  Heaven, 
And  all  the  listless  joy  of  summer  shades. 
We  in  the  midst  of  ruins  live, 
Which  every  hour  dread  warning  give, 
Nor  may  our  household  vine  or  fig-tree  hide 
The  broken  arches  of  old  Canaan's  pride. 

Where  is  the  sweet  repose  of  hearts  repenting, 

The  deep  calm  sky,  the  sunshine  of  the  soul, 
Now  Heaven  and  earth  are  to  our  bliss  consenting 
And  all  the  Godhead  joins  to  make  us  whole  ? 
The  triple  crown  of  mercy  now 
Is  ready  for  the  suppliant's  brow, 
By  the  Almighty  Three  for  ever  planned, 
And  from  behind  the  cloud  held  out  by  Jesus' 
hand. 

"  Now,  Christians,  hold  your  own — the  land  be- 
fore ye 

Is  open — win  your  way,  and  take  your  rest." 
So  sounds  our  war-note ;  but  our  path  of  glory 

By  many  a  cloud  is  darkened  and  unblest : 


146       SECOND  SUNDAY 

And  daily  as  we  downward  glide, 
Life's  ebbing  stream  on  either  side 
Shows  at  each  turn  some  mouldering  hope  or  joy, 
The  man  seems  following  still  the  funeral  of  the 
boy. 

Open  our  eyes,  Thou  Sun  of  life  and  gladness, 

That  we  may  see  that  glorious  world  of  Thine  ! 
It  shines  for  us  in  vain,  while  drooping  sadness 
Enfolds  us  here  like  mist :  come,  Power  benign, 
Touch  our  chilled  hearts  with  vernal  smile, 
Our  wintry  course  do  Thou  beguile, 
Nor  by  the  wayside  ruins  let  us  mourn, 
Who  have  the  eternal  towers  for  our  appointed 
bourne. 

SECOND  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY 

Marvel  not,  my  brethren,  if  the  world  hate  you. 
We  know  that  we  have  passed  from  death  unto  life, 
because  we  love  the  brethren,      i  S.  John  iii.  13,  14. 

CHARITY  THE  LIFE  OF  FAITH.  Aug.  7,  1822. 
Love  is  the  secret  of  all  life,  the  life  of  nature  and  the 
life  of  man.  The  common  love  of  Christ  makes  every 
human  life  precious  in  our  sight,  even  the  sinner's,  and 
it  will  make  us  draw  closer  to  each  other  in  spite  of 
temptation  and  persecution. 

HTHE  clouds  that  wrap  the  setting  sun 

WhenAutumn'ssoftestgleamsareending, 
Where  all  bright  hues  together  run 

In  sweet  confusion  blending  : — 
Why,  as  we  watch  their  floating  wreath, 
Seem  they  the  breath  of  life  to  breathe  ? 
To  Fancy's  eye  their  motions  prove 
They  mantle  round l  the  Sun  for  love. 
1  i.e.  they  enfold  as  with  a  mantle. 


AFTER  TRINITY         147 

When  up  some  woodland  dale  l  we  catch 

The  many-twinkling  smile  of  ocean,2 
Or  with  pleased  ear  bewildered  watch 

His  chime  of  restless  motion  ; 8 
Still  as  the  surging  waves  retire 
They  seem  to  gasp  with  strong  desire, 
Such  signs  of  love  old  Ocean  gives, 
We  cannot  choose  but  think  he  lives. 

Wouldst  thou  the  life  of  souls  discern  ? 

Nor  human  wisdom  nor  divine 
Helps  thee  by  aught  beside  to  learn ; 

Love  is  life's  only  sign. 
The  spring  of  the  regenerate  heart, 
The  pulse,  the  glow  of  every  part, 
Is  the  true  love  of  Christ  our  Lord, 
As  man  embraced,  as  God  adored. 

But  he  whose  heart  will  bound  to  mark 

The  full  bright  burst  of  summer  morn, 
Loves  too  each  little  dewy  spark 

By  leaf  or  floweret  worn  : 
Cheap  forms  and  common  hues,  'tis  true, 
Through  the  bright  shower-drop  meet  his  view : 
The  colouring  may  be  of  this  earth  ; 
The  lustre  comes  of  heavenly  birth. 

Even  so,  who  loves  the  Lord  aright, 

No  soul  of  man  can  worthless  find  ; 
All  will  be  precious  in  his  sight, 

Since  Christ  on  all  hath  shined : 
1  "Some    of    the  woods   round   Sidmouth   may   be 
taken    to    have    suggested    this    description." — Miss 
Yonge,  "  Musings,"  p.  178. 

2 ttovtIijiv  re  KVfxarwv 

av-fipid/xov  ytXacr/xa iEschy].  P.V.  89. — J.  K. 

3  «•  Chime,"  "  tones."— MSS. 


148       SECOND  SUNDAY 

But  chiefly  Christian  souls  ;  for  they, 
Though  worn  and  soiled  with  sinful  clay, 
Are  yet,  to  eyes  that  see  them  true, 
All  glistening  with  baptismal  dew. 

Then  marvel  not,  if  such  as  bask 

In  purest  light  of  innocence, 
Hope  against  hope,  in  love's  dear  task, 

Spite  of  all  dark  offence. 
If  they  who  hate  the  trespass  most, 
Yet,  when  all  other  love  is  lost, 
Love  the  poor  sinner,  marvel  not ; 
Christ's  mark  outwears  the  rankest  blot. 

No  distance  breaks  the  tie  of  blood  ; 

Brothers  are  brothers  evermore  ; 
Nor  wrong,  nor  wrath  of  deadliest  mood, 

That  magic  may  o'erpower  ; 
Oft,  ere  the  common  source  be  known, 
The  kindred  drops  will  claim  their  own, 
And  throbbing  pulses  silently 
Move  heart  towards  heart  by  sympathy.1 

So  is  it  with  true  Christian  hearts  ; 

Their  mutual  share  in  Jesus'  blood 
An  everlasting  bond  imparts 
Of  holiest  brotherhood : 
1  Possibly  an  allusion  to  "  Cymbeline,"  Act  iii.  sc. 
6.     (The  interview  between  Imogen  and  her  brothers.) 
Cf.  Act  v.  sc.  5. 

Imog.  O  my  gende  brothers, 

Have  we  thus  met  ?     O,  never  say  hereafter 
But  I  am  truest  speaker:  you  called  me  brother, 
When  I  was  but  your  sister ;  I  you  brothers, 
When  ye  were  so  indeed. 
Cymb.  Did  you  e'er  meet  ? 

Arv.     Ay,  my  good  lord. 
Gut.  And  at  first  meeting  loved. 


AFTER  TRINITY         149 

Oh  !   might  we  all  our  lineage  prove, 
Give  and  forgive,  do  good  and  love, 
By  soft  endearments  in  kind  strife 
Lightening  the  load  of  daily  life  ! 

There  is  much  need  :  for  not  as  yet 

Are  we  in  shelter  or  repose  ; 
The  holy  house  is  still  beset 

With  leaguer  of  stern  foes  ; 
Wild  thoughts  within,  bad  men  without, 
All  evil  spirits  round  about, 
Are  banded  in  unblest  device 
To  spoil  Love's  earthly  paradise. 

Then  draw  we  nearer  day  by  day, 

Each  to  his  brethren,  all  to  God  ; 
Let  the  world  take  us  as  she  may, 

We  must  not  change  our  road ; 
Not  wondering,  though  in  grief,  to  find 
The  martyr's  foe  still  keep  her  mind ; 
But  fixed  to  hold  Love's  banner  fast, 
And  by  submission  win  at  last. 

THIRD   SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY 

There  is  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  God  over 
one  sinner  that  repenteth.     S.  Luke  xv.  10. 

COMFORT  FOR  SINNERS  IN  THE  PRESENCE 
OF  THE  GOOD.     April  7,  1826. 

Remorse  purified  into  penitence. 

The  reproach  of  conscience  drives  us  from  home 
into  the  solitudes  of  Nature,  and  even  there  prevents 
our  enjoyment  of  its  beauty,  so  that  we  grieve  the 
angels  that  we  cannot  join  in  their  praise :  but  such 
remorse  may  be  lifted  from  mere  6elfish  fear  of  conse- 


ISO         THIRD  SUNDAY 

quences  into  true  penitence,  and  thus,  welcomed  by 
gentle  forgiving  Christians  and  by  the  angels,  the 
penitent  will  no  longer  shudder  at  the  Presence  of  God. 
This  poem  should  be  compared  with  those  for  Ash 
Wednesday  and  the  Twenty-fourth  Sunday  after 
Trinity.  The  picture  of  the  murderer  of  Laius  flying 
into  solitude  in  Sophocles,  "  (Ed.  Tyr."  471,  may  have 
coloured  the  language. 

Q  HATEFUL  spell  of  sin  !  when  friends 
^  are  nigh, 

To  make  stern  Memory  tell  her  tale  unsought, 
And  raise  accusing  shades  of  hours  gone  by, 

To  come  between  us  and  all  kindly  thought ! 

Chilled  at  her  touch,  the  self- reproaching  soul 
Flies  from  the  heart  and  home  she  dearest  loves 

To  where  lone  mountains  tower,  or  billows  roll, 
Or  to  your  endless  depth,  ye  solemn  groves ! 

In  vain  :  the  averted  cheek  in  loneliest  dell 
Is  conscious  of  a  gaze  it  cannot  bear, 

The  leaves  that  rustle  near  us  seem  to  tell 
Our  heart's  sad  secret  to  the  silent  air. 

Nor  is  the  dream  untrue  :  for  all  around 

The  heavens  are  watching  with  their  thousand 
eyes, 

We  cannot  pass  our  guardian  angel's  bound, 
Resigned  or  sullen,  he  will  hear  our  sighs. 

He  in  the  mazes  of  the  budding  wood 

Is  near,  and  mourns  to  see  our  thankless  glance 

Dwell  coldly,  where  the  fresh   green   earth  is 
strewed 
With  the  first  flowers  that  lead  the  vernal  dance. 


AFTER  TRINITY         151 

In  wasteful  bounty  showered,  they  smile  unseen, 
Unseen  by  man — but  what  if  purer  sprights 

By  moonlight  o'er  their  dewy  bosoms  lean, 
To  adore  the  Father  of  all  gentle  lights  ? 1 

If  such  there  be,  O  grief  and  shame  to  think 
That  sight  of  thee  should  overcloud  their  joy, 

A  newborn  soul,  just  waiting  on  the  brink 
Of  endless  life,  yet  wrapt  in  earth's  annoy  1 

O  turn,  and  be  thou  turned !   the  selfish  tear, 
In  bitter  thoughts  of  low-born  care  begun, 

Let  it  flow  on,  but  flow  refined  and  clear, 
The  turbid  waters  brightening  as  they  run. 

Let  it  flow  on,  till  all  thine  earthly  heart 
In  penitential  drops  have  ebbed  away, 

Then  fearless  turn  where  Heaven  hath  set  thy 
part, 
Nor  shudder  at  the  Eye  that  saw  thee  stray.2 

O  lost  and  found  !   all  gentle  souls  below 

Their  dearest  welcome  shall  prepare,  and  prove 

Such  joy  o'er  thee,  as  raptured  seraphs  know, 
Who  learn  their  lesson  at  the  Throne  of  Love. 

1  Cf.  S.  James  i.  17. 

2  Cf.  2  Cor.  vii.  10.  Godly  sorrow  worketh  re- 
pentance to  salvation  not  to  be  repented  of,  but  the 
sorrow  of  the  world  worketh  death. 


i52      FOURTH  SUNDAY 


FOURTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY 

For  the  earnest  expectation  of  the  creature  waiteth 
for  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God.  For  the  crea- 
ture was  made  subject  to  vanity,  not  willingly,  but  by 
reason  of  Him  who  hath  subjected  the  same  in  hope, 
because  the  creature  itself  also  shall  be  delivered  from 
the  bondage  of  corruption  into  the  glorious  liberty  of 
the  children  of  God.  For  we  know  that  the  whole 
creation  groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain  together  until 
now.     Romans  viii.  19-22. 

THE  GROANS  OF  NATURE.     August  20,  1820. 

The  whole  of  creation  witnesses  to  the  goodness  of 
God  ;  it  is  only  man's  sin  that  prevents  his  hearing  the 
witness  ;  yet  from  time  to  time  in  some  quiet  starlit 
night  the  thought  comes  home  to  him,  as  it  did  to 
Pagan  Poets.  They  caught  glimpses  of  a  deeper 
meaning  in  Nature,  though  they  could  not  anticipate 
the  message  of  Redemption,  which  was  to  ennoble  the 
meanest  things  below.  We  have  heard  this  message, 
yet  even  to  us  there  is  a  note  of  sadness  in  Nature 
because  of  the  presence  of  sin. 

Compare  the  poems  on  Septuagesima  Sunday  and 
Easter  Day,  and  for  the  reference  to  Pagan  poetry  that 
for  the  Third  Sunday  in  Lent,  and  the  lectures  on 
Lucretius  and  Virgil  in  Keble's  "  Praelectiones  Aca- 
demical." 

IT  was  not  then  a  poet's  dream, 
*        An  idle  vaunt  of  song, 
Such  as  beneath  the  moon's  soft  gleam 
On  vacant  fancies  throng  ; 

Which  bids  us  see  in  heaven  and  earth, 

In  all  fair  things  around, 
Strong  yearnings  for  a  blest  new  birth 

With  sinless  glories  crowned  ; 


AFTER  TRINITY         153 

Which  bids  us  hear,  at  each  sweet  pause 
From  care  and  want  and  toil, 

When  dewy  eve  her  curtain  draws 
Over  the  day's  turmoil, 

In  the  low  chant  of  wakeful  birds, 

In  the  deep  weltering  flood, 
In  whispering  leaves,  these  solemn  words — 

"  God  made  us  all  for  good." 

All  true,  all  faultless,  all  in  tune, 

Creation's  wondrous  choir 
Opened  in  mystic  unison 

To  last  till  time  expire. 

And  still  it  lasts :   by  day  and  night, 

With  one  consenting  voice, 
All  hymn  Thy  glory,  Lord,  aright, 

All  worship  and  rejoice. 

Man  only  mars  the  sweet  accord, 

O'erpowering  with  "  harsh  din  "  l 

The  music  of  Thy  works  and  word, 
111  matched  with  grief  and  sin. 

1  "Harsh  din,"  from  Milton's  Ode,  "At  a  Solemn 
Music" : 

"That  we  on  earth,  with  undiscording  voice 
May  rightly  answer  that  melodious  noise ; 
As  once  we  did,  till  disproportioned  sin 
Jarred  against  Nature's  chime,  and  with  harsh  din 
Broke  the  fair  music  that  all  creatures  made 
To  their  great  Lord." 

Compare  also  Sir  W.  Scott,  "  Rokeby,"  Canto  iii.  i  : 
"Man  only  mars  kind  Nature's  plan." 


154       FOURTH  SUNDAY 

Sin  is  with  man  at  morning  break, 
And  through  the  live-Jong  day 

Deafens  the  ear  that  fain  would  wake 
To  Nature's  simple  lay. 

But  when  eve's  silent  foot-fall  steals 

Along  the  eastern  sky, 
And  one  by  one  to  earth  reveals 

Those  purer  fires  on  high, 

When  one  by  one  each  human  sound 

Dies  on  the  awful  ear, 
Then  Nature's  voice  no  more  is  drowned, 

She  speaks  and  we  must  hear. 

Then  pours  she  on  the  Christian  heart 

That  warning  still  and  deep, 
At  which  high  spirits  of  old  would  start 

E'en  from  their  Pagan  sleep, 

Just  guessing,  through  their  murky  blind,1 
Few,  faint,  and  baffling  sight, 

Streaks  of  a  brighter  Heaven  behind, 
A  cloudless  depth  of  light. 

Such  thoughts,  the  wreck  of  Paradise, 

Through  many  a  dreary  age, 
Upbore  whate'er  of  good  and  wise 

Yet  lived  in  bard  or  sage  : 

They  marked  what  agonising  throes 
Shook  the  great  mother's  womb ; 

But  Reason's  spells  might  not  disclose 
The  gracious  birth  to  come  ; 

1  "  Blind,"  i.e.  a  veil,  anything  which  shuts  out  the 
light.     Cf.  "  Gunpowder  Treason  "  :  St.  7  : 
«  Error's  soothing  blind." 


AFTER  TRINITY         155 

Nor  could  the  enchantress  Hope  forecast 
God's  secret  love  and  power  ; 

The  travail  pangs  of  Earth  must  last 
Till  her  appointed  hour  ; 

The  hour  that  saw  from  opening  Heaven 

Redeeming  glory  stream, 
Beyond  the  summer  hues  of  even, 

Beyond  the  mid-day  beam. 

Thenceforth,  to  eyes  of  high  desire, 

The  meanest  things  below, 
As  with  a  Seraph's  robe  of  fire 

Invested,  burn  and  glow  : 

The  rod  of  Heaven  has  touched  them  all, 
The  word  from  Heaven  is  spoken  ; 

"  Rise,  shine,  and  sing,  thou  captive  thrall ; 
Are  not  thy  fetters  broken  ? 

"  The  God  Who  hallowed  thee  and  blessed, 

Pronouncing  thee  all  good — 
Hath  He  not  all  thy  wrongs  redressed, 

And  all  thy  bliss  renewed  ? 

"  Why  mourn'st  thou  still  as  one  bereft, 

Now  that  the  eternal  Son 
His  blessed  home  in  Heaven  hath  left 

To  make  thee  all  His  own  ? " 

Thou  mourn'st  because  Sin  lingers  still 
In  Christ's  new  Heaven  and  earth  ; 

Because  our  rebel  works  and  will 
Stain  our  immortal  birth  : 


156         FIFTH  SUNDAY 

Because,  as  love  and  prayer  grow  cold, 
The  Saviour  hides  His  face, 

And  worldlings  blot  the  temple's  gold 
With  uses  vile  and  base. 

Hence  all  thy  groans  and  travail  pains, 
Hence,  till  thy  God  return, 

In  wisdom's  ear  thy  blithest  strains, 
O  Nature,  seem  to  mourn. 


FIFTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY 

And  Simon  answering  said  unto  him,  Master,  we 
have  toiled  all  the  night  and  have  taken  nothing: 
nevertheless  at  Thy  word  I  will  let  down  the  net. 
And  when  they  had  this  done,  they  enclosed  a  great 
multitude  of  fishes :  and  their  net  brake.  S.  Luke 
v.  5,  6. 

THE   FISHERMEN   OF   BETHSAIDA.     1821. 

Christ's  Presence  has  power  to  cheer  the  Christian 
Pastor  in  his  hour  of  weariness  and  despondency.  If 
he  succeeds,  that  Presence  saves  him  from  self-satisfied 
conceit:  if  he  fails,  it  yet  brings  the  assurance  that 
Christ  blesses  even  in  disappointment  those  who  work 
for  love. 

"  '"THE  live-long  night  we've  toiled  in  vain, 
But  at  Thy  gracious  word, 
I  will  let  down  the  net  again  : — 

Do  Thou  Thy  will,  O  Lord !  " 

So  spake  the  weary  fisher,  spent 
With  bootless  darkling  toil, 

Yet  on  his  Master's  bidding  bent 
For  love  and  not  for  spoil. 


AFTER  TRINITY         157 

So  day  by  day  and  week  by  week, 

In  sad  and  weary  thought, 
They  muse,  whom  God  hath  set  to  seek 

The  souls  His  Christ  hath  bought. 

For  not  upon  a  tranquil  lake 

Our  pleasant  task  we  ply, 
Where  all  along  our  glistening  wake 

The  softest  moonbeams  lie  ; 

Where  rippling  wave  and  dashing  oar 

Our  midnight  chant  attend, 
Or  whispering  palm-leaves  from  the  shore 

With  midnight  silence  blend. 

Sweet  thoughts  of  peace,  ye  may  not  last : 
Too  soon  some  ruder  sound 

Calls  us  from  where  ye  soar  so  fast 
Back  to  our  earthly  round. 

For  wildest  storms  our  ocean  sweep : — 

No  anchor  but  the  Cross 
Might  hold :  and  oft  the  thankless  deep 

Turns  all  our  toil  to  loss. 

Full  many  a  dreary  anxious  hour 

We  watch  our  nets  alone 
In  drenching  spray  and  driving  shower, 

And  hear  the  night-bird's  moan  : 

At  morn  we  look,  and  nought  is  there  ; 

Sad  dawn  of  cheerless  day  ! 1 
Who  then  from  pining  and  despair 

The  sickening  heart  can  stay  ? 

1  "Sad  night  biings  cheerless  day."— MSS. 


158  FIFTH  SUNDAY 

There  is  a  stay — and  we  are  strong ; 

Our  Master  is  at  hand, 
To  cheer  our  solitary  song, 

And  guide  us  to  the  strand, 

In  His  own  time  :  but  yet  a  while 
Our  bark  at  sea  must  ride ; 

Cast  after  cast,  by  force  or  guile, 
All  waters  must  be  tried : 

By  blameless  guile  or  gentle  force, 
As  when  He  deigned  to  teach 

(The  lode-star  of  our  Christian  course) 
Upon  this  sacred  beach. 

Should  e'er  thy  wonder-working  grace 
Triumph  by  our  weak  arm, 

Let  not  our  sinful  fancy  trace 

Aught  human  in  the  charm  : 

To  our  own  nets1  ne'er  bow  we  down, 

Lest  on  the  eternal  shore 
The  angels,  while  our  draught  they  own,2 

Reject  us  evermore : 

Or,  if  for  our  unworthiness 

Toil,  prayer,  and  watching  fail, 

In  disappointment  Thou  canst  bless, 
So  love  at  heart  prevail. 

1  They  sacrifice  unto  their  net,  and  burn  incense  unto 
their  drag.     Habakkuk  i.  16. 

2  S.  Matthew  xiii.  49. 


AFTER  TRINITY         159 


SIXTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY 

David  said  unto  Nathan,  I  have  sinned  against  the 
Lord.  And  Nathan  said  unto  David,  The  Lord  also 
hath  put  away  thy  sin  ;  thou  shalt  not  die.  2  Samuel 
xii.  13. 

THE  PSALMIST  REPENTING.     April  15,  1826. 

The  thought  of  God's  forgiving  Presence  is  the  cure 
for  remorse  and  melancholy ;  as  the  poet-king  heard 
Nathan's  message,  and  then  poured  forth  his  peaceful 
penitence  in  the  Fifty-first  Psalm,  pray  for  the  present 
minstrel  that  he  too  may  know  the  blessing  of  for- 
giveness. 

Compare  the  "  Dedication  "  prefixed  to  the  later 
editions  of  the  "  Christian  Year." 

\A/HEN  bitter  thoughts,  of  conscience  born, 
With  sinners  wake  at  morn, 
When  from  our  restless  couch  we  start, 
With  fevered  lips  and  withered  heart, 
Where  is  the  spell  to  charm  those  mists  away, 
And  make  new  morning  in  that  darksome  day  ? 
One  draught  of  spring's  delicious  air, 
One  steadfast  thought  that  God  is  there. 

These  are  Thy  wonders,  hourly  wrought,1 

Thou  Lord  of  time  and  thought, 
Lifting  and  lowering  souls  at  will, 
Crowding  a  world  of  good  or  ill 

1  There  seems  a  reminiscence  of  G.  Herbert,  "  The 
Flower,"  st.  3  : 

"  These  are  Thy  wonders,  Lord  of  power, 
Killing  and  quickening,  bringing  down  to  hell 

And  up  to  heaven  in  an  houre : 
Making  a  chiming  of  a  passing-bell. 
We  say  amisse, 
This  or  that  is  ; 
Thy  word  is  all,  if  we  could  spell." 


160         SIXTH  SUNDAY 

Into  a  moment's  vision  :  even  as  light 
Mounts  o'er  a  cloudy  ridge,  and  all  is  bright, 

From  west  to  east  one  thrilling  ray 

Turning  a  wintry  world  to  May. 

Wouldst  thou  the  pangs  of  guilt  assuage  ? 

Lo  !   here  an  open  page, 
Where  heavenly  mercy  shines  as  free, 
Written  in  balm,  sad  heart,  for  thee. 
Never  so  fast,  in  silent  April  shower, 
Flushed  into  green  the  dry  and  leafless  bower,1 
As  Israel's  crowned  mourner  felt 
The  dull  hard  stone  within  him  melt. 

The  absolver  saw  the  mighty  grief, 
And  hastened  with  relief; — 
"  The  Lord  forgives  ;  thou  shalt  not  die  !  " — 
'Twas  gently  spoke,  yet  heard  on  high, 
And  all  the  band  of  angels,  used  to  sing 
In  Heaven,  accordant  to  his  raptured  string, 
Who  many  a  month  had  turned  away 
With  veiled  eyes,  nor  owned  his  lay, 

Now  spread  their  wings  and  throng  around 
To  the  glad  mournful  sound, 

And  welcome,  with  bright  open  face, 

The  broken  heart  to  love's  embrace. 
The  rock  is  smitten,  and  to  future  years 
Springs  ever  fresh  the  tide  of  holy  tears  2 

And  holy  music,  whispering  peace 

Till  time  and  sin  together  cease. 

1  "  And  all  this  leafless  and  uncoloured  scene 

Shall  flush  into  variety  again." 

Cowper,  "  The  Task,"  vi.  178-180. — J.  K. 

2  The  fifty-first  Psalm. 


AFTER  TRINITY         161 

There  drink :  and  when  ye  are  at  rest, 

With  that  free  Spirit  blest,1 
Who  to  the  contrite  can  dispense 
The  princely  heart  of  innocence, 
If  ever,  floating  from  faint  earthly  lyre, 
Was  wafted  to  your  soul  one  high  desire, 
By  all  the  trembling  hope  ye  feel, 
Think  on  the  minstrel  as  ye  kneel : 

Think  on  the  shame,  that  dreadful  hour 

When  tears  shall  have  no  power, 
Should  his  own  lay  the  accuser  prove, 
Cold  while  he  kindled  others'  love : 
And  let  your  prayer  for  charity  arise, 
That  his  own  heart  may  hear  his  melodies, 
And  a  true  voice  to  him  may  cry, 
"  Thy  God  forgives — thou  shalt  not  die." 

SEVENTH   SUNDAY   AFTER 
TRINITY 

From  whence  can  a  man  satisfy  these  men  with  bread 
here  in  the  wilderness?     S.  Mark  viii.  4. 

THE  FEAST  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 
November  4,  1825. 

The  Four  Thousand  in  the  desert — weary,  faint,  in 
a  landscape  of  fear,  with  the  lonely  hills  on  the  North 
and  the  memories  of  the  Dead  Sea  in  the  South — yet 
found  their  needs  supplied  by  the  Saviour  even  there, 
and  that  though  He  used  only  a  poor  fisher's  rude  and 

1  Psalm  li.  12.  "Uphold  me  with  thy  free  spirit." 
The  original  word  seems  to  mean  "  ingenuous,  princely, 
noble."  Read  Bishop  Home's  Paraphrase  on  the 
verse. —J.  K. 

L 


G' 


162      SEVENTH  SUNDAY 

scanty  store ;  and  they  went  away  with  a  new  bright- 
ness for  all  their  life.  So  it  is  for  us  now.  As  travellers 
are  more  conscious  of  God's  Presence  in  the  night,  so 
we,  when  the  rapture  of  life  passes  away  and  we  feel 
our  loneliness,  are  then  drawn  nearer  to  Heaven.  The 
sounds  of  Nature,  the  flowers,  the  stars,  the  lives  of 
simple  men,  nay,  even  earth's  worst  and  least,  are  like 
the  loaves  and  fishes  with  which  Christ  can  satisfy  us. 

The  connection  is  rather  obscure,  but  the  whole 
thought  is  steeped  in  Wordsworth's  "Ode,"  and  should 
be  compared  with  his  account  of  his  own  transition 
from  the  rapture  of  boyhood,  through  the  dreariness  of 
manhood  when  the  vision  fades  into  the  light  of  common 
day, into 

"  The  soothing  thoughts  that  spring 
Out  of  human  suffering. " 

(Compare  infra  p.  203  and  p.  236.) 

O  not  away,  thou  weary  soul : 

Heaven  has  in  store  a  precious  dole 
Here  on  Bethsaida's  cold  and  darksome  height, 
Where  over  rocks  and  sands  arise 
Proud  Sirion  in  the  northern  skies, 
And  Tabor's  lonely  peak,  'twixt  thee  and  noon- 
day light. 

And  far  below,  Gennesaret's  main 
Spreads  many  a  mile  of  liquid  plain, 
(Though  all  seem  gathered  in  one  eager  bound),1 

1  Mr  Keble  is  reported  to  have  said  late  in  life  that 
he  supposed  he  meant  something  of  this  sort:  "That 
when  you  stand  on  a  height  such  as  that  referred  to, 
you  feel  an  almost  irresistible  impulse  to  leap  over."* 
With  all  due  deference,  it  seems  more  probable  that  he 
meant  either  "the  lake  looks  from  a  distance  as  though 
it  had  gathered  itself  up  in  one  quick  leap  over  its 
channel"  (bound  =  leap),  or  "all  seem  contained  within 
the  limit  of  one  eager  gaze"  ( bound  =  boundary,  cf. 
p.  204,  st.  1,  and  also  p.  200,  st.  2). 

*  The  "  Guardian,"  March  11,  1874. 


AFTER  TRINITY         163 

Then  narrowing  cleaves  yon  palmy  lea,1 
Towards  that  deep  sulphureous  sea, 
Where  five  proud  cities  lie,  by  one  dire  sentence 
drowned.2 

Landscape  of  fear  !   yet,  weary  heart, 
Thou  need'st  not  in  thy  gloom  depart, 

Nor  fainting  turn  to  seek  thy  distant  home : 
Sweetly  thy  sickening  throbs  are  eyed 
By  the  kind  Saviour  at  thy  side ; 

For  healing  and  for  balm  even  now  thine  hour 
is  come. 

No  fiery  wing  is  seen  to  glide, 
No  cates  ambrosial  are  supplied, 

But  one  poor  fisher's  rude  and  scanty  store 
Is  all  He  asks  (and  more  than  needs) 
Who  men  and  angels  daily  feeds, 

And  stills  the  wailing  sea-bird  on  the  hungry  shore. 

The  feast  is  o'er,  the  guests  are  gone, 

And  over  all  that  upland  lone 
The  breeze  of  eve  sweeps  wildly  as  of  old  ; 

But  far  unlike  the  former  dreams, 

The  heart's  sweet  moonlight  softly  gleams 
Upon  life's  varied  view,  so  joyless  erst  and  cold. 

As  mountain  travellers  in  the  night, 
When  heaven  by  fits  is  dark  and  bright, 

Pause  listening  on  the  silent  heath,  and  hear 
Nor  trampling  hoof  nor  tinkling  bell, 
Then  bolder  scale  the  rugged  fell, 

Conscious  the  more  of  One,  ne'er  seen,  yet  ever 
near  : 

1  "Then  narrowing  cleaves  yon  palm-crowned  lea." 
— MSS. 

2  Gen.  xiv.  2  ;  xix.  29. 


I 


1 64      SEVENTH  SUNDAY 

So  when  the  tones  of  rapture  gay 
On  the  lorn  ear  die  quite  away, 

The  lonely  world  seems  lifted  nearer  Heaven  ; 
Seen  daily,  yet  unmarked  before, 
Earth's  common  paths  are  strewn  all  o'er 

With  flowers  of  pensive  hope,  the  wreath  of  man 
forgiven. 

The  low  sweet  tones  of  Nature's  lyre 

No  more  on  listless  ears  expire, 
Nor  vainly  smiles  along  the  shady  way 

The  primrose  in  her  vernal  nest, 

Nor  unlamented  sink  to  rest 
Sweet  roses  one  by  one,  nor  autumn  leaves  decay. 

There's  not  a  star  the  heaven  can  shew, 

There's  not  a  cottage  hearth  below, 
But  feeds  with  solace  kind  the  willing  soul — 

Men  love  us,  or  they  need  our  love ; 

Freely  they  own,  or  heedless  prove 
The  curse  of  lawless  hearts,  the  joy  of  self-con- 
trol.1 

Then  rouse  thee  from  desponding  sleep, 

Nor  by  the  wayside  lingering  weep, 
Nor  fear  to  seek  Him  farther  in  the  wild, 

Whose  Love  can  turn  earth's  worst  and  least 

Into  a  conqueror's  royal  feast : 
Thou  wilt  not  be  untrue,  thou  shalt  not  be  be- 
guiled. 
1  Men  either  by  free  obedience  own,  without  experi- 
encing it,  die  curse  of  lawlessness,  and,  by  experiencing 
it,  the  joy  of  self-control ;  or  by  disobedience  they  prove 
in  experience  the  curse  of  lawlessness,  and  by  contrast 
the  joy  of  self-control.  In  either  case  they  bring  solace 
to  us  as  proving  the  truth  and  justice  of  God's  rule. 


AFTER  TRINITY         165 


EIGHTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY 

It  is  the  man  of  God,  who  was  disobedient  unto  the 
word  of  the  Lord,     i  Kings  xiii.  26. 

THE  DISOBEDIENT  PROPHET.     April  13,  1826. 

The  death  of  the  disobedient  Prophet  is  a  warning  to 
the  Christian  Pastor  that  he  himself  may  prove  a  cast- 
away. 

DROPHET  of  God,  arise  and  take 
With  thee  the  words  of  wrath  divine, 
The  scourge  of  Heaven,  to  shake 
O'er  yon  apostate  shrine. 

Where  angels  down  the  lucid  stair 
Came  hovering  to  our  sainted  sires, 
Now,  in  the  twilight,  glare 
The  heathen's  wizard  fires.1 

Go,  with  thy  voice  the  altar  rend, 

Scatter  the  ashes,  be  the  arm, 
That  idols  would  befriend, 
Shrunk  at  thy  withering  charm. 

Then  turn  thee,  for  thy  time  is  short, 
But  trace  not  o'er  the  former  way, 

Lest  idol  pleasures  court 

Thy  heedless  soul  astray. 

Thou  know'st  how  hard  to  hurry  by, 
Where  on  the  lonely  woodland  road 
Beneath  the  moonlight  sky 
The  festal  warblings  flowed  ; 

1  i.e.  at  Bethel.     Cf.  Genesis  xxviii.  12. 


1 66       EIGHTH  SUNDAY 

Where  maidens  to  the  Queen  of  Heaven 
Wove  the  gay  dance  round  oak  or  palm, 

Or  breathed  their  vows  at  even 

In  hymns  as  soft  as  balm. 

Or  thee  perchance  a  darker  spell 
Enthralls  :  the  smooth  stones  of  the  flood,1 

By  mountain  grot  or  fell, 

Pollute  with  infant's  blood  ; 

The  giant  altar  on  the  rock, 
The  cavern  whence  the  timbrel's  call 
Affrights  the  wandering  flock  : — 
Thou  long' st  to  search  them  all. 

Trust  not  the  dangerous  path  again — 

0  forward  step  and  lingering  will ! 

O  loved  and  warned  in  vain  ! 
And  wilt  thou  perish  still  ? 

Thy  message  given,  thine  home  in  sight, 

To  the  forbidden  feast  return  ? 
Yield  to  the  false  delight 
Thy  better  soul  could  spurn  ? 

Alas,  my  brother !   round  thy  tomb 

In  sorrow  kneeling,  and  in  fear, 
We  read  the  Pastor's  doom 
Who  speaks  and  will  not  hear. 

The  grey-haired  saint  may  fail  at  last, 
The  surest  guide  a  wanderer  prove ; 

Death  only  binds  us  fast 

To  the  bright  shore  of  love. 

1  Among   the  smooth  stones  of  the  stream  is  thy 
portion;  they,  they  are  thy  lot.     Isaiah  lvii.  6. 


AFTER  TRINITY         167 


NINTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY 

And  after  the  earthquake  a  fire ;  but  the  Lord  was 
not  in  the  fire:  and  after  the  fire  a  still  small  voice. 
1  Kings  xix.  12. 

ELIJAH  IN  HOREB.     August  13,  1822 

In  moments  of  despondency  for  the  state  of  the  Church 
the  story  of  Elijah  on  Horeb  reminds  the  Christian 
Pastor  that  God's  chief  method  is  to  use  soft,  meek, 
and  tender  ways  to  draw  sinners  to  Him,  that  there  are 
others  whom  he  himself  knows  not  praying  for  God's 
cause,  and  that  his  task  is  to  work  on  in  faith,  not 
hastily  looking  for  results. 

Miss  Yonge  rightly  illustrates  this  poem  by  that  on 
"The  Gathering  of  the  Church,"  in  the  " Lyra  Apos- 
tolica  "  :  ("  Miscellaneous  Poems,"  p.  92)  : 

"  Israel  yet  hath  thousands  sealed 
Who  to  Baal  never  kneeled  : 
Seize  the  banner,  spread  its  fold ; 
Seize  it  with  no  faltering  hold  ; 
Spread  its  foldings  high  and  fair, 
Let  all  see  the  Cross  is  there. 

"  What  if  to  the  trumpet's  sound 
Voices  few  come  answering  round  ? 
Scarce  a  votary  swell  the  burst 
When  the  anthem  peals  at  first  ? 
God  hath  sown  and  He  will  reap  ; 
Growth  is  slow  when  roots  are  deep." 

I N  troublous  days  of  anguish  and  rebuke, 

While    sadly  round  them    Israel's    children 
look, 
And  their  eyes  fail  for  waiting   on    their 
Lord: 
While  underneath  each  awful  arch  of  green, 
On  every  mountain  top,  God's  chosen  scene 
Of  pure  heart-worship,  Baal  is  adored  : 


168        NINTH  SUNDAY 

'Tis  well  true  hearts  should  for  a  time  retire 
To  holy  ground,  in  quiet  to  aspire 

Towards  promised  regions  of  serener  grace  ; 
On  Horeb,  with  Elijah,  let  us  lie, 
Where  all  around  on  mountain,  sand,  and  sky, 

God's  chariot-wheels   have  left  distinctest 
trace : 

There,  if  in  jealousy  and  strong  disdain 
We  to  the  sinner's  God  of  sin  complain, 

Untimely    seeking     here     the     peace     of 
Heaven — 
"  It  is  enough,  O  Lord !   now  let  me  die 
E'en  as  my  fathers  did :  for  what  am  I 

That    I    should    stand,    where    they    have 
vainly  striven  ?  " — 

Perhaps  our  God  may  of  our  conscience  ask, 
"  What  doest  thou  here,  frail  wanderer  from  thy 
task? 
Where  hast  thou  left  those  few  sheep  in 
the  wild?"  i 
Then  should  we  plead  our  heart's  consuming  pain, 
At  sight  of  ruined  altars,  prophets  slain, 

And  God's  own  ark  with  blood  of  souls 
defiled, 

He  on  the  rock  may  bid  us  stand,  and  see 
The  outskirts  of  His  march  of  mystery, 

His  endless  warfare  with  man's  wilful  heart ; 
First,  His  great  Power  He  to  the  sinner  shews, 
Lo  !   at  His  angry  blast  the  rocks  unclose, 

And  to  their  base  the  trembling  mountains 
part: 

1   i  Samuel  xvii.  28. 


AFTER  TRINITY         169 

Yet  the  Lord  is  not  here :  'tis  not  by  Power 
He  will  be  known  ;  but  darker  tempests  lower — 
Still,    sullen    heavings   vex    the    labouring 
ground : 
Perhaps  His   Presence   through   all    depth  and 

height, 
Best  of  all  gems  that  deck  His  crown  of  light, 
The  haughty  eye  may  dazzle  and  confound. 

God  is  not  in  the  earthquake ;  but  behold 
From  Sinai's  caves  are  bursting,  as  of  old, 

The  flames  of  His  consuming  jealous  ire. 
Woe  to  the  sinner,  should  stern  Justice  prove 
His  chosen  attribute  ; — but  He  in  love 

Hastes  to  proclaim,  "  God  is  not  in  the  fire." 

The  storm  is  o'er — and  hark  !   a  still  small  voice 
Steals  on  the  ear,  to  say,  Jehovah's  choice 

Is  ever  with  the  soft,  meek,  tender  soul ; 
By  soft,  meek,  tender  ways  He  loves  to  draw 
The  sinner,  startled  by  His  ways  of  awe : 

Here  is  our  Lord,  and  not  where  thunders 
roll. 

Back  then,  complainer ;  loath  thy  life  no  more, 
Nor  deem  thyself  upon  a  desert  shore, 

Because  the  rocks  the  nearer  prospect  close 
Yet  in  fallen  Israel  are  there  hearts  and  eyes 
That  day  by  day  in  prayer  like  thine  arise : 

Thou  know'st  them  not,  but  their  Creator 
knows. 

Go,  to  the  world  return,  nor  fear  to  cast 
Thy  bread  upon  the  waters,  sure  at  last1 
In  joy  to  find  it  after  many  days. 
1  Ecclesiastes  xi.  i. 


170        TENTH  SUNDAY 

The  work  be  thine,  the  fruit  thy  children's  part : 
Choose  to  believe,  not  see  :   sight  tempts  the  heart 
From  sober  walking  in  true  Gospel  ways. 


TENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY 

And  when  he  was  come  near,  he  beheld  the  city,  and 
wept  over  it.     S.  Luke  xix.  41. 

CHRIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM.      18 19. 

The  Saviour's  tears  over  Jerusalem  are  not  drawn  out 
by  the  thought  of  the  death  of  the  crowds,  nor  by  the 
sorrows  in  store  for  Himself,  but  by  the  thought  of 
their  sin  and  its  consequences.  His  grief  is  that  not 
of  a  conqueror,  nor  of  a  martyr,  but  of  a  Saviour. 

A  sermon  on  this  text  preached  in  181 8  ("Sermons 
Occasional  and  Parochial,"  No.  x.)  is  the  best  com- 
mentary on  this  poem. 

Miss  Yonge  ("Musings,"  p.  210)  compares  the 
similar  thought  in  the  "Child's  Christian  Year  "for 
Palm  Sunday : 

"Why  weeps  He?  For  his  people's  sin, 
And  for  thy  follies  all ; 
For  each  bad  dream  thine  heart  within, 
Those  tears  the  bitterer  fall." 

\A/HY  doth  my  Saviour  weep 
At  sight  of  Sion's  bowers  ? 
Shews  l  it  not  fair  from  yonder  steep, 

Her  gorgeous  crown  of  towers  ? 
Mark  well  His  holy  pains : 

'Tis  not  in  pride  or  scorn, 
That  Israel's  King  with  sorrow  stains 

His  own  triumphal  morn. 

1  "Shews,"  i.e.  looks,  appears  (a  ntuter  verb).  Cf. 
All  Saints'  Day,  st.  2  (p.  268).  The  MSS.  read 
"looks." 


AFTER  TRINITY         171 

It  is  not  that  His  soul 

Is  wandering  sadly  on, 
In  thought  how  soon  at  death's  dark  goal 

Their  course  will  all  be  run, 
Who  now  are  shouting  round 

Hosanna  to  their  chief; 
No  thought  like  this  in  Him  is  found, 

This  were  a  Conqueror's  grief.1 

Or  doth  He  feel  the  Cross 

Already  in  His  heart, 
The  pain,  the  shame,  the  scorn,  the  loss  ? 

Feel  even  His  God  depart  ? 
No  :  though  He  knew  full  well 

The  grief  that  then  shall  be — 
The  grief  that  angels  cannot  tell — 

Our  God  in  agony. 

It  is  not  thus  He  mourns  ; 

Such  might  be  martyr's  tears, 
When  his  last  lingering  look  he  turns 

On  human  hopes  and  fears  ; 
But  hero  ne'er  or  saint 

The  secret  load  might  know 
With  which  His  spirit  waxeth  faint ; 

His  is  a  Saviour's  woe. 

1  Cf.  Herod,  vii.  46.  Xerxes,  while  watching  the 
Persian  army  at  Abydo<,  prepared  for  the  expedition 
against  Greece,  "congratulated  himself  on  his  good 
fortune,  but  after  a  little  while  he  wept,"  for  "there 
came  upon  me,''  he  replied,  when  asked  the  reason,  '•'  a 
sudden  pity  when  I  thought  of  the  shortness  of  man's 
life,  and  considered  that  of  all  this  host,  so  numerous 
as  it  is,  not  one  will  be  alive  when  a  hundred  years  are 
gone  by." 


172     ELEVENTH  SUNDAY 

"  If  thou  hadst  known,  even  thou, 

At  least  in  this  thy  day, 
The  message  of  thy  peace  !   but  now 

'Tis  passed  for  aye  away : 
Now  foes  shall  trench  thee  round, 

And  lay  thee  even  with  earth, 
And  dash  thy  children  to  the  ground, 

Thy  glory  and  thy  mirth.,, 

And  doth  the  Saviour  weep 

Over  his  people's  sin, 
Because  we  will  not  let  Him  keep 

The  souls  He  died  to  win  ? 
Ye  hearts,  that  love  the  Lord, 

If  at  this  sight  ye  burn, 
See  that  in  thought,  in  deed,  in  word,1 

Ye  hate  what  made  Him  mourn. 


ELEVENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

Is  it  a  time  to  receive  money,  and  to  receive  garments, 
and  oliveyards,  and  vineyards,  and  sheep,  and  oxen,  and 
men-servants,  and  maid-servants  ?     2  Kings  v.  26. 

GEHAZI  REPROVED.     September  28,  1823.— K. 
September  8. — R. 

The  signs  of  coming  Judgment  make  us  grateful  for 
all  disappointments  that  wean  us  from  the  world. 

It  is  interesting  to  read  side  by  side  with  this  poem 
Keble's  sermon  on  "  The  Endurance  of  Church  Imper- 
fections," written  in  1 841,  upon  the  text,  Jer.  xlv.  4,  5, 

1  Cf.  Ps.  xcvii.  10.  O  ye  that  love  the  Lord,  see  that 
ye  hate  the  thing  that  is  evil. 


AFTER  TRINITY         173 

quoted  in  the  notes  here.     ("  Sermons  Occasional  and 
Academical,"  xii.) 

]  S  this  a  time  to  plant  and  build, 
1     Add  house  to  house  and  field  to  field, 
When  round  our  walls  the  battle  lowers, 
When  mines  are  hid  beneath  our  towers, 
And  watchful  foes  are  stealing  round 
To  search  and  spoil  the  holy  ground  ? 

Is  this  a  time  for  moonlight  dreams 
Of  love  and  home  by  mazy  streams, 
For  Fancy  with  her  shadowy  toys,1 
Aerial  hopes  and  pensive  joys, 
While  souls  are  wandering  far  and  wide 
And  curses  swarm  on  every  side  ? 

No, — rather  steel  thy  melting  heart 
To  act  the  martyr's  sternest  part, 
To  watch  with  firm  unshrinking  eye 
Thy  darling  visions  as  they  die, 
Till  all  bright  hopes  and  hues  of  day 
Have  faded  into  twilight  grey. 

Yes, — let  them  pass  without  a  sigh, 
And  if  the  world  seem  dull  and  dry, 
If  long  and  sad  thy  lonely  hours, 
And  winds  have  rent  thy  sheltering  bowers, 
Bethink  thee  what  thou  art,  and  where, 
A  sinner  in  a  life  of  care. 

The  fire  of  God  is  soon  to  fall 
(Thou  know'st  it)  on  this  earthly  ball ; 
Full  many  a  soul,  the  price  of  blood, 
Marked  by  the  Almighty's  hand  for  good, 
1  "  For  soft  endearments,  pastoral  joys, 

For  memory's  shadows,  fancy's  toys." — MSS. 


i74     ELEVENTH  SUNDAY 

To  utter  death  that  hour  shall  sweep — x 
A  nd  will  the  Saints  in  Heaven  dare  weep  ? 

Then  in  His  wrath  shall  God  uproot 
The  trees  He  set,  for  lack  of  fruit, 
And  drown  in  rude  tempestuous  blaze 
The  towers  His  hand  had  deigned  to  raise  ; 
In  silence,  ere  that  storm  begin, 
Count  o'er  His  mercies  and  thy  sin. 

Pray  only  that  thine  aching  heart, 
From  visions  vain  content  to  part, 
Strong  for  Love's  sake  its  woe  to  hide, 
May  cheerful  wait  the  Cross  beside, 
Too  happy  if,  that  dreadful  day, 
Thy  life  be  given  thee  for  a  prey.2 

Snatched  sudden  from  the  avenging  rod, 
Safe  in  the  bosom  of  thy  God, 
How  wilt  thou  then  look  back,  and  smile 
On  thoughts  that  bitterest  seemed  erewhile, 
And  bless  the  pangs  that  made  thee  see 
This  was  no  world  of  rest  for  thee. 

1  «  Shall  with  the  Apostate  Church  be  swept 
To  utter  darkness  all  unwept." — MSS. 
2  The  Lord  saith  thus  :  Behold,  that  which  I  have 
built  will  I  break  down,  and  that  which  I  have  planted 
I  will  pluck  up,  even  this  whole  land.  And  seekest 
thou  great  things  for  thyself?  seek  them  not:  for, 
behold,  I  will  bring  evil  upon  all  flesh,  saith  the  Lord  : 
but  thy  life  will  1  give  unto  thee  for  a  prey  in  all  places 
whither  thou  goest.— Jeremiah  xlv.  4,  5. 


AFTER  TRINITY         ^y5 

TWELFTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

And  looking  up  to  Heaven,  he  sighed,  and  saith  unto 
him,  Ephphatha,  that  is,  Be  opened.     S.  Mark  vii.  34. 

THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB.— August  23,  1822.— K. 
August  22. — R. 
Christ  even  in  doing  deeds  of  blessing  sighed  as  He 
thought  of  man's  rebel  will  and  of  those  who  would 
refuse  His  blessings.  He  only  who  knew  God's  face 
could  look  upon  the  face  of  sin  ;  what  will  be  the  lot 
of  those  who  refuse  to  see  God  and  have  to  face  only 
the  consequences  of  sin  ?  May  Christ,  who  has  already 
touched  our  ears  and  opened  our  mouths,  keep  us  from 
everything  that  would  draw  us  back  to  the  world. 

HTHE  Son  of  God  in  doing  good 

Was  fain  to  look  to  Heaven  and  sigh  : 
And  shall  the  heirs  of  sinful  blood 

Seek  joy  unmixed  in  charity  ? 
God  will  not  let  Love's  work  impart 
Full  solace,  lest  it  steal  the  heart ; 
Be  thou  content  in  tears  to  sow, 
Blessing,  like  Jesus,  in  Thy  woe. 

He  looked  to  Heaven,  and  sadly  sighed — 

What  saw  my  gracious  Saviour  there, 
With  fear  and  anguish  to  divide 

The  joy  of  Heaven-accepted  prayer  ? 
So  o'er  the  bed  where  Lazarus  slept 
He  to  his  Father  groaned  and  wept : 
What  saw  He  mournful  in  that  grave, 
Knowing  Himself  so  strong  to  save  ? 

O'erwhelming  thoughts  of  pain  and  grief 
Over  His  sinking  spirit  sweep  ; — 

"  What  boots  it  gathering  one  lost  leaf 
Out  of  yon  sere  and  withered  heap, 


176     TWELFTH  SUNDAY 

Where  souls  and  bodies,  hopes  and  joys, 
All  that  earth  owns  or  sin  destroys, 
Under  the  spurning  hoof  are  cast, 
Or  tossing  in  the  autumnal  blast  ? " 

The  deaf  may  hear  the  Saviour's  voice, 

The  fettered  tongue  its  chain  may  break ; 
But  the  deaf  heart,  the  dumb  by  choice, 
The  laggard  soul,  that  will  not  wake, 
The  guilt  that  scorns  to  be  forgiven ; — 
These  baffle  e'en  the  spells  of  Heaven ; 
In  thought  of  these,  His  brows  benign 
Not  even  in  healing  cloudless  shine. 

No  eye  but  His  might  ever  bear 

To  gaze  all  down  that  drear  abyss, 
Because  none  ever  saw  so  clear 

The  shore  beyond  of  endless  bliss : 
The  giddy  waves  so  restless  hurled, 
The  vexed  pulse  of  this  feverish  world, 
He  views  and  counts  with  steady  sight, 
Used  to  behold  the  Infinite. 

But  that  in  such  communion  high 
He  hath  a  fount  of  strength  within, 

Sure  His  meek  heart  would  break  and  die, 
O'erburthened  by  His  brethren's  sin  ; 

Weak  eyes  on  darkness  dare  not  gaze, 

It  dazzles  like  the  noon-day  blaze  ; 

But  He  who  sees  God's  face  may  brook 

On  the  true  face  of  Sin  to  look. 

What  then  shall  wretched  sinners  do, 
When  in  their  last,  their  hopeless  day, 

Sin,  as  it  is,  shall  meet  their  view, 
God  turn  His  face  for  aye  away  ? 


AFTER  TRINITY  177 

Lord,  by  Thy  sad  and  earnest  eye, 
When  Thou  didst  look  to  Heaven  and  sigh  ; 
Thy  voice,  that  with  a  word  could  chase 
The  dumb,  deaf  spirit  from  his  place  ; 

As  Thou  hast  touched  our  ears,  and  taught 
Our  tongues  to  speak  Thy  praises  plain, 
Quell  Thou  each  thankless,  godless  thought 

That  would  make  fast  our  bonds  again. 
From  worldly  strife,  from  mirth  unblest, 
Drowning  Thy  music  in  the  breast, 
From  foul  reproach,  from  thrilling  fears, 
Preserve,  good  Lord,  Thy  servants'  ears. 

From  idle  words,  that  restless  throng 

And  haunt  our  hearts  when  we  would  pray, 
From  pride's  false  chime,  and  jarring  wrong, 

Seal  Thou  my  lips  and  guard  the  way : 
For  Thou  hast  sworn,  that  every  ear, 
Willing  or  loth,  Thy  trump  shall  hear, 
And  every  tongue  unchained  be 
To  own  no  hope,  no  God,  but  Thee. 

THIRTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

And  he  turned  him  unto  his  disciples,  and  said 
privately,  Blessed  are  the  eyes  which  see  the  things 
that  ye  see  :  for  I  tell  you,  that  many  prophets  and 
kings  have  desired  to  see  those  things  which  ye  see, 
and  have  not  seen  them ;  and  to  hear  those  things 
which  ye  hear,  and  have  not  heard  them.  S.  Luke  x. 
23,  24. 

MOSES  ON  THE  MOUNT.     Sept.  i6,  1821. 
The  greatness  of  the  Christian's  privilege  and  there- 
fore of  his  peril. 

M 


o 


178    THIRTEENTH  SUNDAY 

Nothing  but  God  can  satisfy  the  soul  of  man :  this 
truth  is  witnessed  to  by  Moses  on  the  Mount  ;  by  the 
restlessness  of  those  who  try  to  be  satisfied  with  the 
things  of  earth  ;  by  the  dissatisfied  longings  of  the 
kings  and  prophets  of  the  Old  Testament.  But  to  us 
it  is  given  to  see  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ :  we 
have  this  privilege  ;  how  terrible  must  be  our  fall,  if 
we  abuse  it ! 

N  Sinai's  top,  in  prayer  and  trance, 
Full  forty  nights  and  forty  days 
The  Prophet  watched  for  one  dear  glance 
Of  Thee  and  of  Thy  ways  : 

Fasting  he  watched  and  all  alone, 
Wrapt  in  a  still,  dark,  solid  cloud, 

The  curtain  of  the  Holy  One 
Drawn  round  him  like  a  shroud : 

So,  separate  from  the  world,  his  breast 
Might  duly  take  and  strongly  keep 

The  print  of  Heaven,  to  be  expressed 
Ere  long  on  Sion's  steep.1 

There,  one  by  one,  his  spirit  saw 

Of  things  divine  the  shadows  bright, 
The  pageant  of  God's  perfect  law  ; 

Yet  felt  not  full  delight. 
Through  gold  and  gems,  a  dazzling  maze, 

From  veil  to  veil  the  vision  led, 
And  ended,  where  unearthly  rays 

From  o'er  the  ark  were  shed. 

Yet  not  that  gorgeous  place,  nor  aught 

Of  human  or  angelic  frame, 
Could  half  appease  his  craving  thought ; 

The  void  was  still  the  same. 
1  Hebrews  viii.  5.     See  that  thou  make  all  things 
according  to  the  pattern  shewed  to  thee  in  the  mount. 


AFTER  TRINITY         179 

"  Show  me  Thy  glory,  gracious  Lord  ! 

'Tis  Thee,"  he  cries,  "  not  Thine,  I  seek."  1 
Nay,  start  not  at  so  bold  a  word 

From  man,  frail  worm  and  weak : 

The  spark  of  his  first  deathless  fire 
Yet  buoys  him  up,  and  high  above 

The  holiest  creature,  dares  aspire 
To  the  Creator's  love.2 

The  eye  in  smiles  may  wander  round, 
Caught  by  earth's  shadows  as  they  fleet ; 

But  for  the  soul  no  help  is  found, 
Save  Him  who  made  it,  meet. 

Spite  of  yourselves,  ye  witness  this,3 
Who  blindly  self  or  sense  adore ; 

Else  wherefore  leaving  your  own  bliss 
Still  restless  ask  ye  more  ? 

This  witness  bore  the  saints  of  old 
When  highest  rapt  and  favoured  most, 

Still  seeking  precious  things  untold, 
Not  in  fruition  lost. 

Canaan  was  theirs,  and  in  it  all 

The  proudest  hope  of  kings  dare  claim  : 

Sion  was  theirs  ;  and  at  their  call 
Fire  from  Jehovah  came.4 

1  Exodus  xxxiii.  18. 

2  Cf.  Gen.  i.  26.  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image, 
after  our  likeness. 

3  Pense'es  de  Pascal  1.  viii.— J.  K.  (This  should 
probably  be  1.  vii.  Misere  de  l'homme,  Art  xxi.  in 
modern  editions.  Cf.  S.  Aug.  "  Conf."  i.  1.,  Fecisti 
nos  ad  te  et  inquietum  est  cor  nostrum  donee  requiescat 
in  te.) 

4  1  Kings  xviii.  38.      2  Kings  i.  10. 


180    THIRTEENTH  SUNDAY 

Yet  monarchs  walked  as  pilgrims  still 

In  their  own  land,  earth's  pride  and  grace ; 

And  seers  would  mourn  on  Sion's  hill 
Their  Lord's  averted  face. 

Vainly  they  tried  the  deeps  to  sound 
E'en  of  their  own  prophetic  thought, 

When  of  Christ  crucified  and  crowned 
His  Spirit  in  them  taught : l 

But  He  their  aching  gaze  repressed 
Which  sought  behind  the  veil  to  see, 

For  not  without  us  fully  blest2 
Or  perfect  might  they  be. 

The  rays  of  the  Almighty's  face 
No  sinner's  eye  might  then  receive ; 

Only  the  meekest  man  found  grace8 
To  see  His  skirts  and  live. 

But  we  as  in  a  glass  espy 

The  glory  of  His  countenance,4 

Not  in  a  whirlwind  hurrying  by 
The  too  presumptuous  glance, 

But  with  mild  radiance  every  hour, 
From  our  dear  Saviour's  face  benign 

Bent  on  us  with  transforming  power, 
Till  we,  too,  faintly  shine. 

Sprinkled  with  His  atoning  blood 
Safely  before  our  God  we  stand, 

As  on  the  rock  the  Prophet  stood, 
Beneath  His  shadowing  hand. — 

1  i  S.  Peter  i.  n. 

2  That  they  without  us  should  not  be  made  perfect. 
Hebrews  xi.  40. 

3  Exodus  xxxiii.  20-23.  4  2  Cor.  iii.  18. 


AFTER  TRINITY         181 

Bless'd  eyes,  which  see  the  things  we  see  ! 

And  yet  this  tree  of  life  hath  proved 
To  many  a  soul  a  poison  tree, 

Beheld,  and  not  beloved. 

So  like  an  angel's  is  our  bliss 

(Oh  !   thought  to  comfort  and  appal ! ) 

It  needs  must  bring,  if  used  amiss, 
An  angel's  hopeless  fall. 

FOURTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

And    Jesus    answering    said,    Were  there   not    ten 

cleansed  ?    but  where  are   the  nine  ?  There  are  not 

found  that  returned  to  give  glory  to  God,  save  this 
stranger.     S.  Luke  xvii.  17,  18. 

THE  TEN  LEPERS.  Circ.  1821. 
The  sadness  of  man's  ingratitude — who  often  turns  to 
God  only  when  he  has  exhausted  the  blessings  of  earth, 
and  then,  when  God  has  answered  prayer,  forgets  to 
pay  his  vows — is  contrasted  with  the  blessing  that 
waits  on  thankfulness. 

"PEN  cleansed,  and  only  one  remain  ! 

Who  would  have  thought  our  nature's  stain 
Was  dyed  so  foul,  so  deep  in  grain  ? 

Even  He  who  reads  the  heart, — 
Knows  what  He  gave  and  what  we  lost, 
Sin's  forfeit,  and  redemption's  cost, — 
By  a  short  pang  *  of  wonder  crossed 

Seems  at  the  sight  to  start : 

Yet  'twas  not  wonder,  but  His  love 
Our  wavering  spirits  would  reprove, 
That  heavenward  seem  so  free  to  move 
When  earth  can  yield  no  more : 
1  "  Pang,"—"  flush,"  MSS. 


1 82    FOURTEENTH  SUNDAY 

Then  from  afar  on  God  we  cry, 
But  should  the  mist  of  woe  roll  by, 
Not  showers  across  an  April  sky 
Drift,  when  the  storm  is  o'er, 

Faster  than  those  false  drops  and  few 
Fleet  from  the  heart,  a  worthless  dew. 
What  sadder  scene  can  angels  view 

Than  self-deceiving  tears, 
Poured  idly  over  some  dark  page 
Of  earlier  life,  though  pride  or  rage 
The  record  of  to-day  engage, 

A  woe  for  future  years  ? * 

Spirits,  that  round  the  sick  man's  bed 
Watched,  noting  down  each  prayer  he  made, 
Were  your  unerring  roll2  displayed, 
His  pride  of  health  to  abase  ; 

1  This  stanza  is  a  condensation  of  two  stanzas  in  the 
MSS. : 

"  So  fast  as  from  the  mourner's  heart 
Those  few  false  drops  unblest  depart ; 
For  tears  from  loveless  eyes  that  start 

Never  drew  blessing  down  : 
They  who  on  earth  have  lingered  long 
And  dived  into  their  own  hearts'  wrong 
The  fearful  import  of  the  song 

Will  self-accusing  own. 

"But  youth  in  all  her  vernal  hues, 
Fresh-sprinkled  as  with  Eden's  dews 
"Will  not  be  bade  go  darkly  muse 

Nor  fear  herself  so  sore. 
So  o'er  Elisha's  fateful  glass 
Young  Hazael  saw  a  murderer  pass, 
Nor  would  believe  the  averted  face 

His  own  dark  features  wore." 

2  "Roll,"  "scroll,  "MSS. 


AFTER  TRINITY         183 

Or,  when  soft  showers  in  season  fall 
Answering  a  famished  nation's  call,1 
Should  unseen  ringers  on  the  wall 
Our  vows  forgotten  trace  ; 

How  should  we  gaze  in  trance  of  fear ! 
Yet  shines  the  light  as  thrilling  clear 
From  Heaven  upon  that  scroll  severe, 

"  Ten  cleansed  and  one  remain  !  " 
Nor  surer  would  the  blessing  prove 
Of  humbled  hearts,  that  own  Thy  love, 
Should  choral  welcome  from  above 

Visit  our  senses  plain  : 

Than  by  Thy  placid  voice  and  brow, 
With  healing  first,  with  comfort  now, 
Turned  upon  him,  who  hastes  to  bow 

Before  Thee,  heart  and  knee  ; 
"  Oh  !    thou,  who  only  wouldst  be  blest, 
On  thee  alone  My  blessing  rest ! 
Rise,  go  thy  way  in  peace,  possessed 

"  For  evermore  of  Me." 

FIFTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they  grow. 

S.  Matthew  vi.  28. 
THE  FLOWERS  OF  THE  FIELD.     Feb.  3,  1826. 

The  soothing  power  that  flowers  wield  over  men 
from  childhood  to  old  age  and  the  secret  of  their  calm 
loveliness  lies  in  their  simple  trust  in  the  Father's  care. 

CWEET  nurslings  of  the  vernal  skies, 

Bathed  in  soft  airs  and  fed  with  dew, 
What  more  than  magic  in  you  lies, 

To  fill  the  heart's  fond  view  ? 
1  Cf.  J.  K. "  Sermons,  Occasional  and  Parochial," p.  105. 


1 84   FIFTEENTH  SUNDAY 

In  childhood's  sports,  companions  gay, 
In  sorrow,  on  life's  downward  way, 
How  soothing  ! — in  our  last  decay 
Memorials  prompt  and  true. 

Relics  ye  are  of  Eden's  bowers, 
As  pure,  as  fragrant,  and  as  fair, 

As  when  ye  crowned  the  sunshine  hours 
Of  happy  wanderers  there. 

Fallen  all  beside — the  world  of  life, 

How  is  it  stained  with  fear  and  strife ! 

In  Reason's  world  what  storms  are  rife, 
What  passions  range  and  glare  ! 

But  cheerful  and  unchanged  the  while 
Your  first  and  perfect  form  ye  show, 

The  same  that  won  Eve's  matron  smile 
In  the  world's  opening  glow. 

The  stars  of  heaven  a  course  are  taught 

Too  high  above  our  human  thought ; 

Ye  may  be  found  if  ye  are  sought, 
And  as  we  gaze,  we  know. 

Ye  dwell  beside  our  paths  and  homes, 

Our  paths  of  sin,  our  homes  of  sorrow, 
And  guilty  man,  where'er  he  roams, 
Your  innocent  mirth  may  borrow. 
The  birds  of  air  before  us  fleet, 
They  cannot  brook  our  shame  to  meet, 
But  we  may  taste  your  solace  sweet 
And  come  again  to-morrow. 

Ye  fearless  in  your  nests  abide — 

Nor  may  we  scorn,  too  proudly  wise, 

Your  silent  lessons,  undescried 
By  all  but  lowly  eyes  : 


AFTER  TRINITY         185 

For  ye  could  draw  the  admiring  gaze 
Of  Him  who  worlds  and  hearts  surveys  : 
Your  order  wild,  your  fragrant  maze, 
He  taught  us  how  to  prize. 

Ye  felt  your  Maker's  smile  that  hour, 

As  when  He  paused  and  owned  you  good  ; 

His  blessing  on  earth's  primal  bower, 
Ye  felt  it  all  renewed. 

What  care  ye  now,  if  winter's  storm 

Sweep  ruthless  o'er  each  silken  form? 

Christ's  blessing  at  your  heart  is  warm, 
Ye  fear  no  vexing  mood. 

Alas  !   of  thousand  bosoms  kind, 
That  daily  court  you  and  caress,1 

How  few  the  happy  secret  find 
Of  your  calm  loveliness  ; 

"  Live  for  to-day  !   to-morrow's  light 

To-morrow's  cares  shall  bring  to  sight ; 

Go  sleep  like  closing  flowers  at  night, 
And  Heaven  thy  morn  will  bless." 

SIXTEENTH    SUNDAY   AFTER 
TRINITY 

I  desire  that  ye  faint  not  at  my  tribulations  for  you, 
which  is  your  glory.     Ephesians  iii.  13. 

HOPE  IS  BETTER  THAN  EASE.      1 824. 

This  poem  was  written  originally  for  Tuesday  before 
Easter,  with  the  text,  Isa.  1.  5.  The  Lord  God  hath 
opened  mine  ear,  and  I  was  not  rebellious,  neither 
turned  away  back. 

The  Cross  is  the  best  cure  for  sorrow,  as  it  teaches 
Resignation  and  makes  us  ashamed  of  the  love  of  praise 
or  comfort. 

1  Cf.  Scott's  "Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel," — Intro. 
No  longer  courted  and  caressed. 


1 86     SIXTEENTH  SUNDAY 

For  Commentary  on  the  Poem  cf.  "  Sermons,  Occa- 
sional and  Parochial,"  No.  xvii.,  preached  in  1825. 
"  The  Great  Lord  of  Heaven  and  earth,  for  whom  and 
by  whom  are  all  things,  was  content,  when  He  became 
man,  to  give  up  His  own  will,  and  to  do  and  suffer  the 
Father's  will,  in  all  those  respects  wherein  men  in 
general  think  it  most  natural  and  reasonable  for  them 
to  expect  to  have  their  own  way.  Men  desire  to  grow 
rich  :  Jesus  Christ,  on  purpose,  continued  all  His  life 
in  poverty.  Men  desire  to  be  honoured  and  esteemed  : 
Jesus  Christ  willingly  came  to  be  despised  and  rejected 
of  men.  Men  desire  to  pass  their  time  in  quiet  and 
ease,  if  not  in  positive  enjoyment :  Jesus  Christ  came 
to  be  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief." 

\  A /ISH  not,  dear  friends,  my  pain  away — 

Wish  me  a  wise  and  thankful  heart, 
With  God,  in  all  my  griefs,  to  stay, 
Nor  from  His  loved  correction  start. 

The  dearest  offering  He  can  crave 
His  portion  in  our  souls  to  prove, 

What  is  it  to  the  gift  He  gave, 
The  only  Son  of  His  dear  love  ? 

But  we,  like  vexed  unquiet  sprights, 
Will  still  be  hovering  o'er  the  tomb, 

Where  buried  lie  our  vain  delights, 
Nor  sweetly  take  a  sinner's  doom. 

In  life's  long  sickness  evermore 

Our  thoughts  are  tossing  to  and  fro : 

We  change  our  posture  o'er  and  o'er, 
But  cannot  rest,  nor  cheat  our  woe.1 

1  Professor  Palgrave  ("Treasury  of  Sacred  Song  ") 
compares  with  this  verse  Dante's  description  of  Florence 
in  her  sick  state:  "Thou  wilt  behold  thyself  in  sem- 
blance of  that  sick  one  who  cannot  find  repose  upon 
the  bed,  but  with  turning  over  keeps  off  her  pain." 
"Purg."  vi.  149.     Comp.  also  "  Rokeby,"  Canto  i.  2. 


AFTER  TRINITY         187 

Were  it  not  better  to  lie  still, 

Let  Him  strike  home  and  bless  the  rod, 
Never  so  safe  as  when  our  will 

Yields  undiscerned  by  all  but  God  ? 

Thy  precious  things,  whate'er  they  be 

That  haunt  and  vex  thee,  heart  and  brain, 

Look  to  the  Cross,  and  thou  shalt  see 
How  thou  mayst  turn  them  all  to  gain. 

Lovest  thou  praise  ?  the  Cross  is  shame  : 
Or  ease  ?  the  Cross  is  bitter  grief: 

More  pangs  than  tongue  or  heart  can  frame 
Were  suffered  there  without  relief. 

We  of  that  Altar  would  partake, 

But  cannot  quit  the  cost — no  throne 

Is  ours,  to  leave  for  Thy  dear  sake — 
We  cannot  do  as  Thou  hast  done. 

We  cannot  part  with  Heaven  for  Thee — 
Yet  guide  us  in  Thy  track  of  love : 

Let  us  gaze  on  where  light  should  be, 
Though  not  a  beam  the  clouds  remove. 

So  wanderers  ever  fond  and  true 

Look  homeward  through  the  evening  sky, 
Without  a  streak  of  heaven's  soft  blue 

To  aid  affection's  dreaming  eye. 

The  wanderer  seeks  his  native  bower, 
And  we  will  look  and  long  for  Thee, 

And  thank  Thee  for  each  trying  hour, 
Wishing,  not  struggling,  to  be  free. 


1 88    SEVENTEENTH  SUNDAY 

SEVENTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

Every  man  of  the  house  of  Israel  that  setteth  up  his 
idols  in  his  heart,  and  putteth  the  stumbling-block  of 
his  iniquity  before  his  face,  and  cometh  to  the  prophet; 
I  the  Lord  will  answer  him  that  cometh  according  to 
the  multitude  of  his  idols.     Ezekiel  xiv.  4. 

EZEKIEL'S  VISION  IN  THE  TEMPLE. 
Oct.  11,  1822.     To  the  Church  of  England.— MSS. 

The  vision  of  Ezekiel,  seeing  the  Temple  at  Jeru- 
salem given  over  to  idolatrous  worship,  is  a  warning 
to  the  Christian  Church  and  to  each  of  us  lest  in  our 
hearts — the  Temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost — we  should 
really  worship  pleasure  or  praise  or  some  lost  earthly 
love ;  if  so,  may  God  not  answer  us  according  to  our 
idols.  Rather  may  He  help  us  to  a  single-hearted 
worship  of  Himself. 

CTATELY    thy    walls,    and    holy   are    the 
prayers 

Which  day  and  night  before  thine  altars  rise  ; 
Not  statelier,  towering  o'er  her  marble  stairs, 

Flashed  Sion's  gilded  dome  to  summer  skies, 
Not  holier,  while  around  him  angels  bowed, 
From  Aaron's  censer  streamed  the  spicy  cloud 

Before  the  mercy-seat.     O  Mother  dear, 

Wilt  thou  forgive  thy  son  one  boding  sigh  ? 
Forgive,  if  round  thy  towers  he  walk  in  fear, 
And  tell  thy  jewels  o'er  with  jealous  eye  ? 1 
Mindful  of  that  sad  vision,  which  in  thought 
From  Chebar's  plains  the  captive  prophet  brought 

To  see  lost  Sion's  shame.2    ' Twas  morning  prime, 
And  like  a  Queen  new  seated  on  her  throne, 

God's  crowned  mountain,  as  in  happier  time, 
Seemed  to  rejoice  in  sunshine  all  her  own  : 
1  Cf.  Ps.  xlviii.  1 1.  2  Ezekiel  viii.  3. 


AFTER  TRINITY         189 

!o  bright,  while  all  in  shade  around  her  lay, 
Ter  northern  pinnacles  had  caught  the  emerging 
ray. 

The  dazzling  lines  of  her  majestic  roof 

Crossed  with  as  free  a  span  the  vault  of  heaven, 

As  when  twelve  tribes  knelt  silently  aloof 

Ere  God  His  answer  to  their  king  had  given,1 

Ere  yet  upon  the  new-built  altar  fell 

The  glory  of  the  Lord,  the  Lord  of  Israel. 

All  seems  the  same :  but  enter  in  and  see 

What  idol  shapes  are  on  the  wall  portrayed  :  2 

And  watch  their  shameless  and  unholy  glee, 
Who  worship  there  in  Aaron's  robes  arrayed  : 

Hear  Judah's  maids  the  dirge  to  Thammuz  pour,3 

And  mark  her  chiefs  yon  orient  sun  adore.4 

Yet  turn  thee,  son  of  man — for  worse  than  these 
Thou  must  behold  :  thy  loathing  were  but  lost 

On  dead  men's  crimes  and  Jews'  idolatries  ; 
Come,learn  to  tell  aright  thine  own  sins'  cost, — 5 

And  sure  their  sin  as  far  from  equals  thine, 

As  earthly  hopes  abused  are  less  than  hopes  divine. 

What  if  within  His  world,  His  Church,  our  Lord 

Have  entered  thee,6  as  in  some  temple  gate, 

Where,  looking  round,  each  glance  might  thee 

afford 

Some  glorious  earnest  of  thine  high  estate, 

And  thou,  false  heart  and  frail,  hast  turned  from 

all 
To  worship  pleasure's  shadow  on  the  wall  ? 
1  1  Kings  viii.  5.  2  Ezekiel  viii.  10. 

8  Ezekiel  viii.  14.  4  Ezekiel  viii.  16. 

6  "Sins'":  perhaps  "  sin's." 
6  i.e.  Have  given  thee  entrance. 


1 9o    SEVENTEENTH  SUNDAY 

If,  when  the  Lord  of  Glory  was  in  sight, 
Thou  turn  thy  back  upon  that  fountain  clear, 

To  bow  before  the  "  little  drop  of  light,"  * 
Which  dim-eyed  men  call  praise  and  glory  here; 

What  dost  thou  but  adore  the  sun,  and  scorn 

Him  at  whose  only  word  both  sun  and  stars  were 
born  ? 

If,  while  around  thee  gales  from  Eden  breathe, 
Thou  hide  thine  eyes,  to  make  thy  peevish  moan 

Over  some  broken  reed  of  earth  beneath, 
Some  darling  of  blind  fancy  dead  and  gone, 

As  wisely  mightst  thou  in  Jehovah's  fane 

Offer  thy  love  and  tears  to  Thammuz  slain. 

Turn  thee  from  these,  or  dare  not  to  inquire 

Of  Him  whose  name  is  Jealous,  lest  in  wrath 
He  hear  and  answer  thine  unblest  desire  : 

Far  better  we  should  cross  his  lightning's  path 

1  "  Little  drop  of  Light."    Probably  from  E.  Waller's 

Poem,  "  An  Apology  for  having  Loved  before."    There, 

man's  admiration  for  the  stars  is  contrasted  with  that  for 

the  sun. 

"  To  man  that  was  in  the  evening  made 
Stars  gave  the  first  delight, 
Admiring,  in  the  gloomy  shade, 

Those  little  drops  of  light ; 
Then  at  Aurora,  whose  fair  hand 
Removed  them  from  the  skies, 
He  gazing  towards  the  East  did  stand, 
She  entertained  his  eyes. 
"  But  when  the  bright  sun  did  appear, 
All  those  he  'gan  despise ; 
His  wonder  was  determined  there 

And  could  no  higher  rise. 
He  neither  might  nor  wished  to  know 

A  more  refulgent  light ; 
For  that  (as  mine  your  beauties  now) 
Employed  his  utmost  sight." 


AFTER  TRINITY         191 

Than  be  according  to  our  idols  heard, 

And  God  should  take  us  at  our  own  vain  word. 

Thou  who  hast  deigned  the  Christian's  heart  to 
call 
Thy  Church  and  Shrine  ;  whene'er  our  rebel 
will 
Would  in  that  chosen  home  of  Thine  instal 

Belial  or  Mammon,  grant  us  not  the  ill 
We  blindly  ask  ;  in  very  love  refuse 
Whate'er  Thou  knowest  our  weakness  would 
abuse. 

Or  rather  help  us,  Lord,  to  choose  the  good, 
To  pray  for  nought,  to  seek  to  none,  but  Thee, 

Nor  by  "  our  daily  bread  "  mean  common  food, 
Nor  say,  "  From  this  world's  evil  set  us  free  "  : 

Teach  us  to  love,  with  Christ,  our  sole  true  bliss, 

Else,  though  in  Christ's  own  words,  we  surely 
pray  amiss. 

EIGHTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

I  will  bring  you  into  the  wilderness  of  the  people, 
and  there  will  I  plead  with  you  face  to  face.  Like  as 
I  pleaded  with  your  fathers  in  the  wilderness  of  the 
land  of  Egypt,  so  will  I  plead  with  you,  saith  the  Lord 
God.     Ezekiel  xx.  35,  36. 

THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 
October  6,  1823. 

The  Christian  Church  is  like  the  children  of  Israel  in 
the  wilderness,  compelled  to  journey  wearily  through 
the  desert  of  the  world  because  it  has  not  pressed  on 
into  the  Holy  Land:  its  privileges  are  greater,  its 
scope  catholic  ;    yet  few  are   full    of  love :    and  that, 


192    EIGHTEENTH  SUNDAY 

though  the  greatness  of  the  privileges  makes  the  peril 
greater.  Do  Thou,  then,  O  Lord,  make  our  hearts  com- 
pletely and  evermore  Thine  own. 

Compare  for  the  whole  the  similar  analogy  in  i  Cor. 
x.  1-13.  The  thought  that  greater  privilege  implies 
greater  peril  is  very  common  in  Mr  Keble's  writing. 
It  will  be  found  in  the  famous  sermon  on  National 
Apostasy,  from  which  Newman  dated  the  rise  of  the 
Tractarian  Movement  ("  Sermons,  Occasional  and 
Academical,"  p.  134),  and  in  the  "Sermons  on  the 
Baptismal  Office,"  p.   136. 

IT  is  so!   ope  thine  eyes,  and  see — 

What  view'st  thou  all  around  ? 
A  desert,  where  iniquity 

And  knowledge  both  abound. 

In  the  waste  howling  wilderness 
The  Church  is  wandering  still,1 

Because  we  would  not  onward  press 
When  close  to  Zion's  hill.2 

Back  to  the  world  we  faithless  turned, 

And  far  along  the  wild, 
With  labour  lost  and  sorrow  earned, 

Our  steps  have  been  beguiled. 

Yet  full  before  us,  all  the  while, 

The  shadowy  pillar  stays, 
The  living  waters  brightly  smile, 

The  eternal  turrets  blaze. 

Yet  Heaven  is  raining  angels'  bread 

To  be  our  daily  food, 
And  fresh,  as  when  it  first  was  shed, 

Springs  forth  the  Saviour's  blood. 

1  Revelation  xii.  14.  2  Cf.  Numbers  xiv.  34. 


AFTER  TRINITY         193 

From  every  region,  race,  and  speech, 

Believing  myriads  throng, 
Till,  far  as  sin  and  sorrow  reach, 

Thy  grace  is  spread  along ; 

Till  sweetest  nature,  brightest  art, 

Their  votive  incense  bring, 
And  every  voice  and  every  heart 

Own  Thee  their  God  and  King. 

All  own  ;  but  few,  alas  !   will  love  ; 

Too  like  the  recreant  band 
That  with  Thy  patient  Spirit  strove 

Upon  the  Red  Sea  strand. 

O  Father  of  long-suffering  grace, 
Thou  who  hast  sworn  to  stay 

Pleading  with  sinners  face  to  face 
Through  all  their  devious  way, 

How  shall  we  speak  to  Thee,  O  Lord, 

Or  how  in  silence  lie  ? 
Look  on  us,  and  we  are  abhorred, 

Turn  from  us,  and  we  die. 

Thy  guardian  fire,  Thy  guiding  cloud, 

Still  let  them  gild  our  wall, 
Nor  be  our  foes  and  Thine  allowed 

To  see  us  faint  and  fall. 

Too  oft,  within  this  camp  of  Thine, 

Rebellious  murmurs  rise  ; 
Sin  cannot  bear  to  see  Thee  shine 

So  awful  to  her  eyes. 
M 


1 94   EIGHTEENTH  SUNDAY 

Fain  would  our  lawless  hearts  escape,     « 

And  with  the  heathen  be, 
To  worship  every  monstrous  shape 

In  fancied  darkness  free.1 

Vain  thought,  that  shall  not  be  at  all !  2 

Refuse  we  or  obey, 
Our  ears  have  heard  the  Almighty's  call, 

We  cannot  be  as  they. 

We  cannot  hope  the  heathen's  doom 

To  whom  God's  Son  is  given, 
Whose  eyes  have  seen  beyond  the  tomb, 

Who  have  the  key  of  Heaven. 

Weak  tremblers  on  the  edge  of  woe, 

Yet  shrinking  from  true  bliss, 
Our  rest  must  be  "no  rest  below," 

And  let  our  prayer  be  this : 

"  Lord,  wave  again  Thy  chastening  rod, 

Till  every  idol  throne 
Crumble  to  dust,  and  Thou,  O  God, 

Reign  in  our  hearts  alone. 

"  Bring  all  our  wandering  fancies  home, 

For  thou  hast  every  spell, 
And  'mid  the  heathen  where  they  roam, 

Thou  knowest,  Lord,  too  well. 

1  Cf.  Ezekiel  viii.  12.  Son  of  man,  hast  thou  seen 
what  the  ancients  of  the  house  of  Israel  do  in  the  dark, 
every  man  in  the  chambers  of  his  imagery  ? 

2  Cf.  Ezekiel  xx.  32.  That  which  cometh  into  your 
mind  shall  not  be  at  all,  that  ye  say,  We  will  be  as  the 
heathen,  as  the  families  of  the  countries,  to  serve  wood 
and  stone. 


AFTER  TRINITY         195 

"  Thou  knowest  our  service  sad  and  hard, 
Thou  knowest  us  fond  and  frail ; — 

Win  us  to  be  beloved  and  spared 
When  all  the  world  shall  fail. 

"So  when  at  last  our  weary  days 

Are  well-nigh  wasted  here, 
And  we  can  trace  Thy  wondrous  ways 

In  distance  calm  and  clear. 

"  When  in  Thy  love  and  Israel's  sin 

We  read  our  story  true, 
We  may  not,  all  too  late,  begin 

To  wish  our  hopes  were  new : 

"  Long  loved,  long  tried,  long  spared  as  they, 

Unlike  in  this  alone, 
That,  by  Thy  grace,  our  hearts  shall  stay 

For  evermore  Thine  own." 


NINETEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

Then  Nebuchadnezzar  the  king  was  astonied,  and 
rose  up  in  haste,  and  spake,  and  said  unto  his  coun- 
sellors, Did  not  we  cast  three  men  bound  into  the 
midst  of  the  fire  ?  They  answered  and  said  unto  the 
king,  True,  O  King.  He  answered  and  said,  Lo,  I  see 
four  men  loose,  walking  in  the  midst  of  the  fire,  and 
they  have  no  hurt ;  and  the  form  of  the  fourth  is  like 
the  Son  of  God.     Daniel  iii.  24,  25. 

SHADRACH,  MESHACH,  AND  ABEDNEGO. 
1819  or  1820. 

The  Saviour,  who  was  present  to  save  Shadrach, 
Meshach,  and  Abednego  in  the  fire,  is  still  present, 


196   NINETEENTH  SUNDAY 

supporting  the  widow  in  her  first  hour  of  widowhood, 
the  father  watching  by  the  son  whose  reason  has  gone, 
and  the  Pastor  in  his  thankless  toil. 

WHEN  Persecution's  torrent  blaze 
Wraps  the  unshrinking  Martyr's  head  ; 
When  fade  all  earthly  flowers  and  bays, 

When  summer  friends  are  gone  and  fled, 
Is  he  alone  in  that  dark  hour, 
Who  owns  the  Lord  of  love  and  power  ? 

Or  waves  there  not  around  his  brow 
A  wand  no  human  arm  may  wield, 

Fraught  with  a  spell  no  angels  know, 
His  steps  to  guide,  his  soul  to  shield  ? 

Thou,  Saviour,  art  his  Charmed  Bower, 

His  Magic  Ring,  his  Rock,  his  Tower. 

And  when  the  wicked  ones  behold 
Thy  favourites  walking  in  Thy  light, 

Just  as,  in  fancied  triumph  bold, 

They  deemed  them  lost  in  deadly  night, 

Amazed  they  cry,  "  What  spell  is  this, 

"  Which  turns  their  sufferings  all  to  bliss  ? 

"  How  are  they  free  whom  we  had  bound  ? 

Upright,  whom  in  the  gulf  we  cast  ? 
What  wondrous  helper  have  they  found 

To  screen  them  from  the  scorching  blast  ? 
Three  were  they — who  hath  made  them  four  ? 
And  sure  a  form  divine  He  wore. 

"  Even  like  the  Son  of  God."     So  cried 
The  Tyrant,  when  in  one  fierce  flame 

The  Martyrs  lived,  the  murderers  died : 
Yet  knew  he  not  what  angel  came 


AFTER  TRINITY         197 

To  make  the  rushing  fire-flood  seem 
Like  summer  breeze  by  woodland  stream.1 

He  knew  not,  but  there  are  who  know : 
The  Matron,  who  alone  hath  stood,2 

When  not  a  prop  seemed  left  below, 
The  first  lorn  hour  of  widowhood, 

Yet  cheered  and  cheering  all  the  while, 

With  sad  but  unaffected  smile ; — 

The  Father,  who  his  vigil  keeps  3 

By  the  sad  couch  whence  hope  hath  flown, 
Watching  the  eye  where  reason  sleeps, 

Yet  in  his  heart  can  mercy  own, 
Still  sweetly  yielding  to  the  rod, 
Still  loving  man,  still  thanking  God ; — 

The  Christian  Pastor,  bowed  to  earth 
With  thankless  toil,  and  vile  esteemed, 

Still  travailing  in  second  birth 

Of  souls  that  will  not  be  redeemed, 

Yet  steadfast  set  to  do  his  part, 

And  fearing  most  his  own  vain  heart ; — 

These  know :  on  these  look  long  and  well, 
Cleansing  thy  sight  by  prayer  and  faith, 

And  thou  shalt  know  what  secret  spell 
Preserves  them  in  their  living  death : 

Through  sevenfold  flames  thine  eye  shall  see 

The  Saviour  walking  with  His  faithful  Three. 

1  "  As  it  had  been  a  moist  whistling  wind."    "  Song 
of  the  Three  Children,"  ver.  27. 

2  "The  Christian  Matron  who  hath  stood." — MSS. 

3  "The  Christian  father  keeping  watch 

By  the  sad  couch  whence  hope  hath  flown, 
Striving  in  vain  one  gleam  to  catch 
Of  reason  in  his  maniac  son." — MSS. 


198  TWENTIETH  SUNDAY 

TWENTIETH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

Hear  ye,  O  mountains,  the  Lord's  controversy,  and 
ye  strong  foundations  of  the  earth.     Micah  vi.  2. 

MOUNTAIN  SCENERY.     October  7,  1823. 

God's  voice  is  heard  most  clearly  in  the  loneliness  of 
some  mountain  scene,  and  it  pleads  with  us  by  the 
memory  of  all  that  He  has  done  for  us  to  take  up  our 
Cross  and  to  trust  that  He  is  working  for  our  good. 

Two  passages  of  Wordsworth  may  have  been  in 
Keble's  mind. 

11  Two  voices  are  there :  one  is  of  the  sea, 
One  of  the  mountain,  each  a  mighty  voice." 

Poems  dedicated  to  National  Independence,  xii. 

"  Early  had  he  learned 
To  reverence  the  volume  that  displays 
The  mystery,  the  life  that  cannot  die ; 
Bat  in  the  mountains  did  he  feel  his  faith." 
The  Excursion,  Book  I. 

The  circumstances  by  which  this  poem  was  probably 
suggested  are  explained  in  the  following  extract  from 
the  Autobiography  of  Isaac  Williams:  "This  summer, 
1822,  John  Keble  came  to  see  his  old  friend  Mr  Richards 
at  Aberystwith :  I  was  introduced  to  him  and  rode  with 
him  on  his  returning  home  the  chief  part  of  the  way  to 
the  Devil's  Bridge,  amidst  that  scenery  which  sug- 
gested, I  believe,  at  that  time,  the  hymn  for  the 
Twentieth  Sunday  after  Trinity."  (p.  12.) 

\  X  /HERE  is  thy  favoured  haunt,  eternal  Voice, 
*  "       The  region  of  Thy  choice, 
Where,  undisturbed  by  sin  and  earth,  the  soul 

Owns  Thy  entire  control  ? — 

'Tis  on  the  mountain's  summit  dark  and  high, 

When  storms  are  hurrying  by: 


AFTER  TRINITY         199 

'Tis  'mid  the  strong  foundations  of  the  earth, 
Where  torrents  have  their  birth. 

No  sounds  of  worldly  toil  ascending  there 

Mar  the  full  burst  of  prayer  ; 
Lone  Nature  feels  that  she  may  freely  breathe, 

And  round  us  and  beneath 
Are  heard  her  sacred  tones  :   the  fitful  sweep 

Of  winds  across  the  steep, 
Through   withered   bents1 — romantic   note  and 
clear, 

Meet  for  a  hermit's  ear, — 

The  wheeling  kite's  wild  solitary  cry, 

And,  scarcely  heard  so  high, 
The  dashing  waters  when  the  air  is  still 

From  many  a  torrent  rill 
That  winds  unseen  beneath  the  shaggy  fell, 

Tracked  by  the  blue  mist  well : 
Such  sounds  as  make  deep  silence  in  the  heart 

For  Thought  to  do  her  part. 

'Tis  then  we  hear  the  voice  of  God  within, 

Pleading  with  care  and  sin  : 
"  Child  of  My  love  !   how  have  I  wearied  thee  ? 

Why  wilt  thou  err  from  Me  ? 
Have  I  not  Drought  thee  from  the  house  of  slaves, 

Parted  the  drowning  waves, 
And  set  My  saints  before  thee  in  the  way, 

Lest  thou  should  faint  or  stray  ? 

1  "Bents,"  cf.  "What  a  delightful  feeling  it  is  to  sit 
under  the  shelter  of  one  of  the  rocks  here  (Malvern) 
and  hear  the  wind  sweeping  with  that  peculiar  kind  of 
strong  moaning  sigh  which  it  practises  on  the  bent 
grass."  J.  K.  to  G.  J.  Cornish,  on  July  8,  1822. 
Quoted  in  Coleridge's  "Memoir,"  p.  10 1. 


200  TWENTY-FIRST  SUNDAY 

"What !   was  the  promise  made  to  thee  alone  ? 

Art  thou  the  excepted  one  ? 
An  heir  of  glory  without  grief  or  pain  ? 

O  vision  false  and  vain  ! 
There  lies  thy  cross  ;  beneath  it  meekly  bow  ; 

It  fits  thy  stature  now : 
Who  scornful  pass  it  with  averted  eye, 

'Twill  crush  them  by  and  bye. 

"  Raise  thy  repining  eyes,  and  take  true  measure 

Of  thine  eternal  treasure  ; 
The  Father  of  thy  Lord  can  grudge  thee  nought, 

The  world  for  thee  was  bought, 
And   as    this  landscape  broad — earth,  sea,  and 
sky,— 

All  centres  in  thine  eye, 
So  all  God  does,  if  rightly  understood, 

Shall  work  thy  final  good."1 


TWENTY-FIRST  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

The  vision  is  yet  for  an  appointed  time,  but  at  the 
end  it  shall  speak,  and  not  lie;  though  it  tarry,  wait 
for  it ;  because  it  will  surely  come,  it  will  not  tarry. 

Habakkuk  ii.  3. 

THE  RED-BREAST  IN  SEPTEMBER. 
September  25,  1823. 

The  red-breast  warbling  in  autumn  teaches  the 
lesson  of  resignation,  both  to  the  individual  Christian 
in  hours  of  sorrow,  and  to  the  Churchman  in  moments 
of  anxiety  about  the  Church. 

Cf.   J.    K.    to   J.    T.   Coleridge.     "You   know  the 

1  Cf.  Rom.  viii.  28,  32. 


AFTER  TRINITY         201 

'Christian  Year'  (as  far  as  I  remember  it)  everywhere 
supposes  the  Church  to  be  in  a  state  of  decay." 
"Memoir,"  p.  1 6 1. 

"THE  morning  mist  is  cleared  away, 
*       Yet  still  the  face  of  Heaven  is  grey, 
Nor  yet  the  autumnal  breeze  has  stirred  the  grove, 
Faded  yet  full,  a  paler  green  * 
Skirts  soberly  the  tranquil  scene, 
The  red-breast  warbles  round  this  leafy  cove. 

Sweet  messenger  of  "  calm  decay,"2 

Saluting  sorrow  as  you  may, 
As  one  still  bent  to  find  or  make  the  best, 

In  thee,  and  in  this  quiet  mead, 

The  lesson  of  sweet  peace  I  read, 
Rather  in  all  to  be  resigned  than  blest. 

1  "A  paler  green."     "  September  green." — MSS. 

2  The  expression,  "  calm  decay,"  is  borrowed  from 
a  friend :  by  whose  kind  permission  the  following 
stanzas  are  here  inserted: 

TO  THE  RED-BREAST 
Unheard  in  summer's  flaring  ray, 

Pour  forth  thy  notes,  sweet  singer, 
Wooing  the  stillness  of  the  autumn  day : 
Bid  it  a  moment  linger, 
Nor  fly 
Too  soon  from  winter's  scowling  eye. 

The  blackbird's  song  at  eventide, 

And  hers,  who  gay  ascends, 
Filling  the  heavens  far  and  wide, 

Are  sweet.     But  none  so  blends, 
As  thine, 
With  calm  decay  and  peace  divine. — J.  K 

These  stanzas  will  be  found  in  "  Come  to  the  Woods  " 
(p.  2i),  by  G.  J.  Cornish.  The  phrase  "calm  decay" 
is  also  to  be  found  in  Wordsworth's  "Address  to 
Kilchurn  Castle." 


202  TWENTY-FIRST  SUNDAY 

'Tis  a  low  chant,  according  well 

With  the  soft  solitary  knell, 
As  homeward  from  some  grave  beloved  we  turn, 

Or  by  some  holy  death-bed  dear, 

Most  welcome  to  the  chastened  ear 
Of  her  whom  Heaven  is  teaching  how  to  mourn. 

0  cheerful  tender  strain  !    the  heart 
That  duly  bears  with  you  its  part, 

Singing  so  thankful  to  the  dreary  blast, 
Though  gone  and  spent  its  joyous  prime, 
And  on  the  world's  autumnal  time, 

Mid  withered  hues  and  sere,  its  lot  be  cast : 

That  is  the  heart  for  thoughtful  seer, 

Watching,  in  trance  nor  dark  nor  clear,1 
The  appalling  Future  as  it  nearer  draws : 

His  spirit  calmed  the  storm  to  meet, 

Feeling  the  rock  beneath  his  feet, 
And  tracing  through  the  cloud  the  eternal  Cause. 

That  is  the  heart  for  watchmen  true 
Waiting  to  see  what  God  will  do, 

As  o'er  the  Church  the  gathering  twilight  falls : 
No  more  he  strains  his  wistful  eye, 
If  chance  the  golden  hours  be  nigh, 

By  youthful  Hope  seen  beaming  round  her  walls. 

Forced  from  his  shadowy  paradise, 

His  thoughts  to  Heaven  the  steadier  rise  : 
There  seek  his  answer  when  the  world  reproves  : 

Contented  in  his  darkling  round, 

If  only  he  be  faithful  found, 
When  from  the  east  the  eternal  morning  moves. 

1  It  shall  come  to  pass  in  that  day,  that  the  light 
shall  not  be  clear,  nor  dark.     Zechariah  xiv.  6. 


AFTER  TRINITY         203 


TWENTY-SECOND  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

Lord,  how  oft  shall  my  brother  sin  against  me,  and 
I  forgive  him?     S.  Matthew  xviii.  Si. 

THE   RULE   OF    CHRISTIAN    FORGIVENESS. 

February  7,  1826. 
As  the  mountain  boy  passing  from  his  simple  home 
into  the  world  with  all  its  pleasures  loses  his  joy  and 
liberty :  so  we  can  measure  the  distance  we  have 
travelled  from  heaven  and  from  the  mind  of  God  by 
our  loss  of  the  willingness  to  forgive ;  for  Christ 
resigned  everything  to  win  the  bliss  of  forgiving. 

In  this  poem,  too  (cf.  p.  198),  there  seem  to  be 
reminiscences  of  two  passages  of  Wordsworth.  For 
the  description  of  the  mountain  boy,  cf.  "  The  Excur- 
sion," Book  1.  ad  in.,  "Such  was  the  boy,  but  for  the 
growing  youth":  and  for  the  narrowing  heart  cf. 
■  The  Ode  on  Intimations  of  Immortality,"  st.  5  : 
11  Heaven  lies  about  us  in  our  infancy ! 
Shades  of  the  prison-house  begin  to  close 

Upon  the  growing  boy, 
But  he  beholds  the  light  and  whence  it  flows, 

He  sees  it  in  his  joy; 
The  youth  who  daily  farther  from  the  east 
Must  travel,  still  is  Nature's  priest, 
And  by  the  vision  splendid 
Is  on  his  way  attended  ; 
At  length  the  man  perceives  it  die  away 
And  fade  into  the  light  of  common  day." 

\A/ HAT  liberty  so  glad  and  gay, 
As  where  the  mountain  boy, 
Reckless  of  regions  far  away, 
A  prisoner  lives  in  joy  ? 

The  dreary  sounds  of  crowded  earth, 

The  cries  of  camp  or  town, 
Never  untuned  his  lonely  mirth, 

Nor  drew  his  visions  down. 


2o4       TWENTY-SECOND 

The  snow-clad  peaks  of  rosy  light 
That  meet  his  morning  view, 

The  thwarting  cliffs  that  bound  his  sight, 
They  bound  his  fancy  too. 

Two  ways  alone  his  roving  eye 

For  aye  may  onward  go, 
Or  in  the  azure  deep  on  high, 

Or  darksome  mere  below. 

O  blest  restraint !   more  blessed  range ! 

Too  soon  the  happy  child 
His  nook  of  homely  thought  will  change 

For  life's  seducing  wild  : 

Too  soon  his  altered  day-dreams  show 
This  earth  a  boundless  space, 

With  sun-bright  pleasures  to  and  fro 
Sporting  in  joyous  race  : 

While  of  his  narrowing  heart  each  year 
Heaven  less  and  less  will  fill, 

Less  keenly,  through  his  grosser  ear, 
The  tones  of  mercy  thrill.1 

It  must  be  so  :  2  else  wherefore  falls 
The  Saviour's  voice  unheard, 

While  from  His  pard'ning  Cross  He  calls, 
"  O  spare  as  I  have  spared  "  ? 

By  our  own  niggard  rule  we  try 
The  hope  to  suppliants  given  ! 

We  mete  our  love,  as  if  our  eye 
Saw  to  the  end  of  Heaven. 

1  "  Mercy  " :  "  pardon."     R. 

2  This  stanza  is  a  later  addition,  not  found  in  either 
MS.  copy,  nor  in  the  first  edition. 


SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY    205 

Yes,  ransomed  sinner  !   wouldst  thou  know 

How  often  to  forgive, 
How  dearly  to  embrace  thy  foe, 

Look  where  thou  hop'st  to  live  ; — 

When  thou  hast  told  these  isles  of  light, 

And  fancied  all  beyond, 
Whatever  owns,  in  depth  or  height, 

Creation's  wondrous  bond ; 

Then  in  their  solemn  pageant  learn 

Sweet  mercy's  praise  to  see  : 
Their  Lord  resigned  them  all  to  earn 

The  bliss  of  pardoning  thee. 

TWENTY-THIRD  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

Who  shall  change  our  vile  body,  that  it  may  be 
fashioned  like  unto  his  glorious  body,  according  to  the 
working  whereby  he  is  able  even  to  subdue  all  things 
unto  himself.     Philippians  iii.  21. 

FOREST  LEAVES  IN  AUTUMN. 
November  12,   1825. 

The  leaves  fall  uncomplaining,  though  there  is  no 
new  life  for  them,  and  man  complains  of  death,  though 
there  is  a  life  in  store  for  him,  and  that  a  life  not,  as 
the  heathen  fancied,  a  mere  repetition  of  this  life,  but 
one  in  which  we  shall  break  through  the  limitations  of 
earth.  But  if  we  are  to  share  that  life,  trial  and  woe 
must  teach  us  to  make  the  body  obedient  to  the  soul. 

The  rhythm  recalls  Gray's  Elegy. 

D  ED  o'er  the  forest  peers  the  setting  sun, 
A^     The  line  of  yellow  light  dies  fast  away 
That  crowned  the  eastern  copse :  and  chill  and 
dun 
Falls  on  the  moor  the  brief  November  day. 


206  TWENTY-THIRD  SUNDAY 

Now  the  tired  hunter  winds  a  parting  note, 
And  Echo  bids  good-night  from  every  glade ; 

Yet  wait  a  while,  and  see  the  calm  leaves  float 
Each  to  his  rest  beneath  their  parent  shade. 

How  like  decaying  life  they  seem  to  glide ! 

And  yet  no  second  spring  have  they  in  store, 
But  where  they  fall  forgotten  to  abide 

Is  all  their  portion,  and  they  ask  no  more. 

Soon  o'er  their  heads  blithe  April  airs  shall  sing, 
A   thousand  wild-flowers   round   them  shall 
unfold, 

The  green  buds  glisten  in  the  dews  of  Spring, 
And  all  be  vernal  rapture  as  of  old. 

Unconscious  they  in  waste  oblivion  lie, 
In  all  the  world  of  busy  life  around 

No  thought  of  them  ;  in  all  the  bounteous  sky 
No  drop,  for  them,  of  kindly  influence  found. 

Man's  portion  is  to  die  and  rise  again — 

Yet  he  complains,  while  these  unmurmuring 
part 

With  their  sweet  lives,  as  pure  from  sin  and  stain, 
As  his  when  Eden  held  his  virgin  heart. 

And  haply  half  unblamed  his  murmuring  voice 
Might  sound  in  Heaven,  were  all  his  second 
life 

Only  the  first  renewed — the  heathen's  choice, 
A.  round  of  listless  joy  and  weary  strife.1 

1  Cf.  the  Sixth  Sunday  after  Epiphany,  st.  8  (p.  60). 


AFTER  TRINITY         207 

For  dreary  were  this  earth,  if  earth  were  all, 
Though   brightened    oft   by   dear    affection's 
kiss ; — 

Who  for  the  spangles  wears  the  funeral  pall  ? 
But  catch  a  gleam  beyond  it,  and  'tis  bliss. 

Heavy  and  dull  this  frame  of  limbs  and  heart, 
Whether  slow  creeping  on  cold  earth,  or  borne 

On  lofty  steed,  or  loftier  prow,  we  dart 

O'er  wave  or  field:  yet  breezes  laugh  to  scorn 

Our  puny  speed,  and  birds,  and  clouds  in  heaven, 
And  fish,  like  living  shafts  that  pierce  the  main, 

And  stars  that  shoot  through  freezing  air  at  even — 
Who  but  would  follow,  might  he  break  his 
chain  ? 

And  thou  shalt  break  it  soon ;  the  grovelling  worm 
Shall  find  his  wings,  and  soar  as  fast  and  free 

As  his  transfigured  Lord  with  lightning  form 
And  snowy  vest ;  such  grace  He  won  for  thee, 

When  from  the  grave  He  sprung  at  dawn  of  morn, 
And  led  through  boundless  air  thy  conquering 
road, 

Leaving  a  glorious  track,  where  saints  new-born 
Might  fearless  follow  to  their  blest  abode. 

But  first,  by  many  a  stern  and  fiery  blast 

The  world's  rude  furnace  must  thy  blood  refine, 

And  many  a  gale  of  keenest  woe  be  passed, 
Till  every  pulse  beat  true  to  airs  divine  ; 

Till  every  limb  obey  the  mounting  soul, 

The  mounting  soul,  the  call  by  Jesus  given. 

He  who  the  stormy  heart  can  so  control, 

The  laggard  body  soon  will  waft  to  Heaven. 


208       TWENTY-FOURTH 

TWENTY-FOURTH  SUNDAY 
AFTER  TRINITY 

The  heart  knoweth  his  own  bitterness ;  and  a 
stranger  doth  not  intermeddle  with  his  joy.  Proverbs 
xiv.  10. 

THE  IMPERFECTION  OF  HUMAN 

SYMPATHY.     June  7,  1825. 

There  is  a  loneliness  which  we  must  feel  on  earth  : 
no  human  friend  can  know  all  the  secrets  of  our  hearts  : 
and  this  is  well,  for,  if  there  were  perfect  sympathy 
here,  our  affection  would  rest  on  earth  and  not  pass  up 
to  Heaven :  it  is  well,  too,  for  another  reason  ;  for  if 
others  knew  all  that  is  in  our  hearts  they  would  cease 
to  love  us.  Hence  a  veil  hangs  between  man  and  man : 
but  hope  can  picture  absent  friends  unchanged,  and 
innocent  children  and  loving  old  age  can  imagine  us 
better  than  we  are.  Meanwhile  the  sinner  who  knows 
his  own  sin,  knows  that  the  Saviour  has  entered  into 
his  sinful  nature  and  knowing  all  yet  loves  him. 

Compare  the  poem  for  Ash  Wednesday.  The 
following  lines  from  Young's  "Night  Thoughts"  (iii, 
26)  may  have  been  in  Mr  Keble's  mind : 

"  Heaven's  Sovereign  saves  all  beings  but  Himself 
That  hideous  sight,  a  naked  human  heart." 

\A7HY  should  we  faint  and  fear  to  live  alone, 
™  Since  all  alone,  so  Heaven  has  willed, 
we  die,1 

Nor  even  the  tenderest  heart,  and  next  our  own, 
Knows  half  the  reasons  why  we  smile  and  sigh  ? 

Each  in  his  hidden  sphere  of  joy  or  woe 
Our  hermit  spirits  dwell,  and  range  apart, 

Our  eyes  see  all  around  in  gloom  or  glow — 
Hues  of  their  own,  fresh  borrowed  from  the 
heart.2 

1  Je  mourrai  seul. — Pascal,  ii.  §  vii. 

2  Cf.  Crabbe's  Tales.     Tale  x.    The  Lover's  Journey. 


SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY    209 

And  well  it  is  for  us  our  God  should  feel 

Alone  our  secret  throbbings :  so  our  prayer 
May  readier  spring  to  Heaven,  nor  spend  its  zeal 

On  cloud-born  idols  of  this  lower  air. 
For  if  one  heart  in  perfect  sympathy 

Beat  with  another,  answering  love  for  love, 
Weak  mortals,  all  entranced,  on  earth  would  lie, 

Nor  listen  for  those  purer  strains  above. 

Or  what  if  Heaven  for  once  its  searching  light 

Lent  to  some  partial  eye,  disclosing  all 
The  rude  bad  thoughts  that  in  our  bosom's  night 

Wander   at    large,  nor    heed    Love's   gentle 
thrall?1 
Who  would  not  shun  the  dreary  uncouth  place  ? 

As  if,  fond  leaning  where  her  infant  slept, 
A  mother's  arm  a  serpent  should  embrace : 2 

So  might  we  friendless  live,  and  die  unwept. 

Then  keep  the  softening  veil  in  mercy  drawn, 
Thou  who  canst  love  us,  though  thou  read  us 
true; 

As  on  the  bosom  of  the  aerial  lawn 

Melts  in  dim  haze  each  coarse  ungentle  hue. 

So  too  may  soothing  Hope  Thy  leave  enjoy 
Sweet  visions  of  long  severed  hearts  to  frame : 

Though  absence  may  impair  or  cares  annoy, 
Some  constant  mind  may  draw3  us  still  the  same. 

1  "  Many  times  when  I  consider  what  my  friend 
would  think  of  me,  if  I  were  to  print  the  other  nine- 
tenths  of  my  thoughts,  I  really  feel  quite  ashamed  of 
having  printed  the  book  (the  •  Christian  Year ')  at 
alL" — J.  K.  to  Mr  Pruen.  Coleridge's  "  Memoir,"  p. 
121. 

2  Probably  an  allusion  to  iEschylus,  "  Choephorae," 
520.  8  "Draw,"  i.e.  picture 

O 


2 1  o       TWENTY-FOURTH 

We  in  dark  dreams  are  tossing  to  and  fro, 
Pine  with  regret,  or  sicken  with  despair, 

The  while  she  bathes  us  in  her  own  chaste  glow, 
And  with  our  memory  wings  her  own  fond 
prayer. 

O  bliss  of  child-like  innocence,  and  love 
Tried  to  old  age !   creative  power  to  win 

And  raise  new  worlds,  where  happy  fancies  rove, 
Forgetting  quite  this  grosser  world  of  sin. 

Bright  are  their  dreams,  because  their  thoughts 
are  clear, 
Their  memory  cheering  :  but  the  earth-stained 
spright, 
Whose  wakeful  musings  are  of  guilt  and  fear, 
Must  hover  nearer  earth  and  less  in  light. 

Farewell,  for  her,  the  ideal  scenes  so  fair — 
Yet  not  farewell  her  hope,  since  Thou  hast 
deigned, 
Creator  of  all  hearts  !   to  own  and  share 

The  woe  of  what  Thou  mad'st  and  we  have 
stained. 

Thou  know'st  our  bitterness1 — our  joys  are  Thine ; 

No  stranger  Thou  to  all  our  wanderings  wild  : 
Nor  could  we  bear  to  think  how  every  line 

Of  us,  Thy  darkened  likeness  and  defiled, 

Stands  in  full  sunshine  of  Thy  piercing  eye, 
But  that  Thou   call'st  us  Brethren  :  2  sweet 
repose 

Is  in  that  word !  the  Lord  who  dwells  on  high 
Knows  all,  yet  loves  us  better  than  He  knows. 
1  Thou  hast  known  my  soul  in  adversities. — Psalm 

xxxi.  7.  2  Heb.  ii.  1 1. 


SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY    211 

TWENTY-FIFTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY 

The  hoary  head  is  a  crown  of  glory,  if  it  be  found  in 
the  way  of  righteousness.     Proverbs  xvi.  31. 

THE  TWO  RAINBOWS.     July  15,  1823. 

As  the  experienced  shepherd  distrusts  a  rainbow  in 
the  morning,  so  the  Christian  pastor  distrusts  quick 
forwardness  and  love  of  praise  in  children,  and  loves 
rather  the  shyness  and  dependence  and  desire  to  do  right 
which  will  make  the  evening  of  life  bright  with  the 
promise  of  a  brighter  morning  in  Heaven. 

This  poem  contains  the  germ  of  many  of  the  poems 
in  the  Lyra  Innocentium. 

THE  bright-haired  morn  is  glowing 

O'er  emerald  meadows  gay, 
With  many  a  clear  gem  strowing 

The  early  shepherd's  way. 
Ye  gentle  elves,  by  fancy  seen 

Stealing  away  with  night 
To  slumber  in  your  leafy  screen, 

Tread  more  than  airy  light. 

And  see  what  joyous  greeting 

The  sun  through  heaven  has  shed, 
Though  fast  yon  shower  be  fleeting, 

His  beams  have  faster  sped. 
For  lo  !   above  the  western  haze 

High  towers  the  rainbow  arch 
In  solid  span  of  purest  rays  : 

How  stately  is  its  march  ! 

Pride  of  the  dewy  morning  ! 

The  swain's  experienced  eye 
From  thee  takes  timely  warning, 

Nor  trusts  the  gorgeous  sky. 


2i2  TWENTY-FIFTH  SUNDAY 

For  well  he  knows,  such  dawnings  gay 
Bring  noons  or  storm  and  shower, 

And  travellers  linger  on  the  way 
Beside  the  sheltering  bower.1 

Even  so,  in  hope  and  trembling 

Should  watchful  shepherd  view 
His  little  lambs  assembling 

With  glance  both  kind  and  true ; 
'Tis  not  the  eye  of  keenest  blaze, 

Nor  the  quick-swelling  breast, 
That  soonest  thrills  at  touch  of  praise — 

These  do  not  please  him  best. 

But  voices  low  and  gentle, 

And  timid  glances  shy, 
That  seem  for  aid  parental 

To  sue  all  wistfully, 
Still  pressing,  longing  to  be  right, 

Yet  fearing  to  be  wrong — 
In  these  the  Pastor  dares  delight, 

A  lamb-like,  Christ-like  throng. 

These  in  Life's  distant  even 

Shall  shine  serenely  bright, 
As  in  the  autumnal  heaven 

Mild  rainbow  tints  at  night, 
When  the  last  shower  is  stealing  down, 

And,  ere  they  sink  to  rest, 
The  sunbeams  weave  a  parting  crown 

For  some  sweet  woodland  nest. 
1  In  the  first  part  of  the  above,  allusion  is  made  to  a 
Cotswold  proverb : 

"A  rainbow  at  night  is  the  shepherd's  delight, 
A  rainbow  in  the  morning  gives  the  shepherd  warning." 

— MSS. 


AFTER  TRINITY         213 

The  promise  of  the  morrow 

Is  glorious  on  that  eve, 
Dear  as  the  holy  sorrow 

When  good  men  cease  to  live ; 
When  brightening  ere  it  die  away 

Mounts  up  their  altar  flame, 
Still  tending  with  intenser  ray 

To  Heaven  whence  first  it  came. 

Say  not  it  dies — that  glory ; 

'Tis  caught  unquenched  on  high, 
Those  saintlike  brows  so  hoary 

Shall  wear  it  in  the  sky. 
No  smile  is  like  the  smile  of  death, 

When  all  good  musings  past 
Rise  wafted  with  the  parting  breath, 

The  sweetest  thought  the  last. 

SUNDAY  NEXT  BEFORE  ADVENT 

Gather  up  the  fragments  that  remain,  that  nothing 
be  lost.     S.  John  vi.  i  z. 

SELF-EXAMINATION  BEFORE  ADVENT. 

July  14,  1825. 
The  Christian  Year  with  all  its  festivals,  with  all  its 
religious  rites,  has  passed  over  us,  and  we  have  not  yet 
found  our  peace.  We  may  not  plead  that  Christ's 
standard  is  impossible  for  us,  for  the  Saints'  Days  have 
reminded  us  that  other  men  have  lived  up  to  it.  What 
if  life  were  as  near  its  end  as  the  year  is  !  Needs  must 
we  watch  and  pray,  for  Christ's  love  can  gather  up  and 
purify  the  fragments  still  left. 

WILL  God  indeed  with  fragments  bear, 
Snatched  late  from  the  decaying  year  ? 
Or  can  the  Saviour's  blood  endear 
The  dregs  of  a  polluted  life  ? 


2i4         SUNDAY  NEXT 

When  down  the  overwhelming  current  tossed 
Just  ere  he  sink  for  ever  lost, 
The  sailor's  untried  arras  are  crossed 
In  agonizing  prayer,  will  ocean  cease  her  strife  ? l 

Sighs  that  exhaust  but  not  relieve, 
Heart-rending  sighs,  O  spare  to  heave 
A  bosom  freshly  taught  to  grieve 

For  lavished  hours  and  love  misspent ! 
Now  through  her  round  of  holy  thought 
The  Church  our  annual  steps  has  brought, 
But  we  no  holy  fire  have  caught — 
Back  on  the  gaudy  world  our  wistful  eyes  were 
bent. 

Too  soon  the  ennobling  carols,  poured 
To  hymn  the  birth-night  of  the  Lord, 
Which  duteous  Memory  should  have  stored 

For  thankful  echoing  all  the  year — 
Too  soon  those  airs  have  passed  away ; 
Nor  long  within  the  heart  would  stay 
The  silence  of  Christ's  dying  day, 
Profaned  by  worldly  mirth  or  scared  by  worldly 
fear. 

Some  strain  of  hope  and  victory 
On  Easter  wings  might  lift  us  high  ; 
A  little  while  we  sought  the  sky : 

And  when  the  Spirit's  beacon  fires 
On  every  hill  began  to  blaze, 
Lightening  the  world  with  glad  amaze, 
Who  but  must  kindle  while  they  gaze  ? 
But  faster  than  she  soars  our  earth-bound  Fancy 
tires. 
1  Cf.  Second  Sunday  in  Lent,  st.  3,  note  (p.  75). 


BEFORE  ADVENT       215 

Nor  yet  for  these,  nor  all  the  rites 
By  which  our  Mother's  voice  invites 
Our  God  to  bless  our  home  delights, 

And  sweeten  every  secret  tear  : — 
The  funeral  dirge,  the  marriage  vow, 
The  hallowed  font  where  parents  bow, 
And  now  elate,  and  trembling  now, 
To  the  Redeemer's  feet  their  new-found  treasures 
bear : — 

Not  for  the  Pastor's  gracious  arm 
Stretched  out  to  bless — a  Christian  charm 
To  dull  the  shafts  of  worldly  harm  : — 
Nor,  sweetest,  holiest,  best  of  all, 
For  the  dear  feast  of  Jesus  dying, 
Upon  that  altar  ever  lying, 
Where  souls  with  sacred  hunger  sighing 
Are  called  to  sit  and  eat,  while  angels  prostrate 
fall  :— 

No,  not  for  each  and  all  of  these 
Have  our  frail  spirits  found  their  ease. 
The  gale  that  stirs  the  autumnal  trees 

Seems  tuned  as  truly  to  our  hearts 
As  when,  twelve  weary  months  ago, 
'Twas  moaning  bleak,  so  high  and  low, 
You  would  have  thought  Remorse  and  Woe 
Had  taught  the  innocent  air  their  sadly  thrilling 
parts. 

Is  it  Christ's  light  is  too  divine, 

We  dare  not  hope  like  Him  to  shine  ? 

But  see,  around  His  dazzling  shrine 

Earth's  gems  the  fire  of  Heaven  have 
caught ; 


216      S.  ANDREW'S  DAY 

Martyrs  and  saints — each  glorious  day 
Dawning  in  order  on  our  way — 
Remind  us  how  our  darksome  clay 
May  keep  the  ethereal  warmth  our  new  Creator 
brought. 

These  we  have  scorned,  O  false  and  frail ! 
And  now  once  more  the  appalling  tale, 
How  love  divine  may  woo  and  fail, 

Of  our  lost  year  in  Heaven  is  told : 
What  if  as  far  our  life  were  past, 
Our  weeks  all  numbered  to  the  last, 
With  time  and  hope  behind  us  cast, 
And  all  our  work  to  do  with  palsied  hands  and 
cold? 

O  watch  and  pray  e'er  Advent  dawn ! 
For  thinner  than  the  subtlest  lawn 
'Twixt  thee  and  death  the  veil  is  drawn. 

But  love  too  late  can  never  glow : 
The  scattered  fragments  Love  can  glean, 
Refine  the  dregs,  and  yield  us  clean 
To  regions  where  one  thought  serene 
Breathes  sweeter  than  whole  years  of  sacrifice 
below. 

S.  ANDREW'S  DAY 

He  first  findeth  his  own  brother  Simon,  and  saith 
unto  him,  We  have  found  the  Messias.  .  .  .  And  he 
brought  him  to  Jesus.     S.  John  i.  41,  42. 

S.  ANDREW'S  DAY.     January  27,  1822 
The  tie  of  brotherhood  can  only  be  made  eternal  by 

a  religious  bond,  by  helping  one  another  in  the  spiritual 

life  and  by  common  religious  acts. 

"This  poem  was   originally  addressed  to   his   own 


S.  ANDREW'S  DAY      217 

brother."  Miss  Yonge,  "Musings,"  p.  280.  Side  by 
side  with  it  should  be  read  Keble's  Sermon  preached  on 
S.  Andrew's  Day  1841.  ("Sermons  Occasional  and 
Academical,"  xi.) 

\A7  HEN  brothers  part  for  manhood's  race, 
v  *       What  gift  may  most  endearing  prove 
To  keep  fond  memory  in  her  place, 
And  certify  a  brother's  love  ? 

'Tis  true,  bright  hours  together  told, 
And  blissful  dreams  in  secret  shared, 

Serene  or  solemn,  gay  or  bold, 
Shall  last  in  fancy  unimpaired.1 

Even  round  the  death-bed  of  the  good 
Such  dear  remembrances  will  hover, 

And  haunt  us  with  no  vexing  mood, 
When  all  the  cares  of  earth  are  over. 

But  yet  our  craving  spirits  feel 

We  shall  live  on,  though  Fancy  die, 

And  seek  a  surer  pledge — a  seal 
Of  love  to  last  eternally. 

Who  art  thou,  that  wouldst  grave  thy  name 
Thus  deeply  in  a  brother's  heart  ? 

Look  on  this  Saint,  and  learn  to  frame 
Thy  love-charm  with  true  Christian  art. 

First  seek  thy  Saviour  out,  and  dwell 
Beneath  the  shadow  of  His  roof, 

Till  thou  have  scanned  His  features  well, 
And  known  Him  for  the  Christ  by  proof; 

1  M  Tis  true  bright  hours  together  spent, 
And  blissful  dreams  in  secret  shared, 
Grave  talk  and  fearless  merriment 

Shall  last  in  fancy  unimpaired." — MSS. 


218        S.  THOMAS'  DAY 

Such  proof  as  they  are  sure  to  find 

Who  spend  with  Him  their  happy  days, 

Clean  hands  and  a  self-ruling  mind 
Ever  in  tune  for  Jove  and  praise. 

Then,  potent  with  the  spell  of  Heaven, 
Go,  and  thine  erring  brother  gain, 

Entice  him  home  to  be  forgiven, 
Till  he,  too,  see  his  Saviour  plain. 

Or,  if  before  thee  in  the  race, 

Urge  him  with  thine  advancing  tread, 

Till,  like  twin  stars,  with  even  pace, 
Each  lucid  course  be  duly  sped.1 

No  fading  frail  memorial  give 

To  soothe  his  soul  when  thou  art  gone, 
But  wreaths  of  hope  for  aye  to  live, 

And  thoughts  of  good  together  done. 

That  so  before  the  judgment- seat, 

Though  changed  and  glorified  each  face, 

Not  unremembered  ye  may  meet, 
For  endless  ages  to  embrace. 

S.  THOMAS'  DAY 

Thomas,  because  thou  hast  seen  me,  thou  hast  be- 
lieved: blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet 
have  believed.     S.  John  xx.  29. 

S.  THOMAS'  DAY.     Feb.  9,  1824. 

Our  time  on  earth  is  an  expectation  time  like  the 

first  week  after  the  Resurrection,  and  the  Risen  Lord 

reveals  Himself  to  the  same  qualities  as  He  did  then  : 

to  Love  as  to  Mary  Magdalene ;  to  Reason  as  to  S. 

1  "To  holy  rivalry  in  grace: 

Rest  not  till  all  thy  course  be  sped." — K.2. 


S.  THOMAS'  DAY        219 

Peter ;  to  Faith  as  to  S.  John  ;  to  those  who  meditate 
and  talk  of  His  Passion,  as  to  the  disciples  on  the  way 
to  Emmaus :  to  all  who  wait  for  Redemption,  as  to  the 
Apostles  on  the  evening  of  Easter  Day :  and  even  to 
those  who  doubt — as  to  S.  Thomas — if,  like  him,  they 
keep  their  love  to  their  Master  true. 

\A/E  were  not  by  when  Jesus  came,1 
*  *       But  round  us,  far  and  near, 
We  see  His  trophies,  and  His  name 

In  choral  echoes  hear. 
In  a  fair  ground  our  lot  is  cast, 
As  in  the  solemn  week  that  past, 
W  hile  some  might  doubt,  but  all  adored,2 
Ere  the  whole  widowed  Church  had  seen  her 
risen  Lord. 

Slowly,  as  then,  His  bounteous  hand 

The  golden  chain  unwinds, 
Drawing  to  Heaven  with  gentlest  band 

Wise  hearts  and  loving  minds. 
Love  sought  Him  first :  at  dawn  of  morn  3 
From  her  sad  couch  she  sprang  forlorn, 
She  sought  to  weep  with  Thee  alone, 
And   saw  Thine    open    grave,   and    knew  that 
Thou  wert  gone. 

Reason  and  Faith  at  once  set  out4 
To  search  the  Saviour's  tomb  ; 

Faith  faster  runs,  but  waits  without, 
As  fearing  to  presume, 

1  Thomas,  one  of  the  twelve,  called  Didymus,  was 
not  with  them  when  Jesus  came.     S.  John  xx.  24. 

2  When  they  saw  him,  they  worshipped  him  :  but 
some  doubted.     S.  Matthew  xxviii.  17. 

3  S.  Mary  Magdalene's  visit  to  the  sepulchre. 

4  S.  Peter  and  S.  John. 


2  2o        S.  THOMAS'  DAY 

Till  Reason  enter  in  and  trace 

Christ's  relics  round  the  holy  place — 

"  Here  lay  His  limbs,  and  here  His  sacred 

head, 
And   who  was  by,  to   make   his   new-forsaken 

bed?" 

Both  wonder,  one  believes — but  while 

They  muse  on  all  at  home, 
No  thought  can  tender  Love  beguile 

From  Jesus'  grave  to  roam. 
Weeping  she  stays  till  He  appear — 
Her  witness  first  the  Church  must  hear — 
All  joy  to  souls  that  can  rejoice 
With  her  at  earliest  call  of  His  dear  gracious  voice. 

Joy  too  to  those  who  love  to  talk 

In  secret  how  He  died, 
Though  with  sealed  eyes  awhile  they  walk, 

Nor  see  Him  at  their  side  ; 
Most  like  the  faithful  pair  are  they, 
Who  once  to  Emmaus  took  their  way, 
Half  darkling,  till  their  Master  shed 
His  glory  on  their  souls,  made  known  in  break- 
ing bread. 

Thus,  ever  brighter  and  more  bright, 

On  those  He  came  to  save 
The  Lord  of  new-created  light 

Dawned  gradual  from  the  grave  : 

Till  passed  the  inquiring  daylight  hour, 

And  with  closed  door  in  silent  bower 

The  Church  in  anxious  musing  sate, 

As  one  who  for  redemption  still  had  long  to  wait. 


S.  THOMAS'  DAY        221 

Then,  gliding  through  the  unopening  door, 

Smooth  without  step  or  sound, 
"  Peace  to  your  souls  !  "  He  said — no  more  ; 

They  own  Him,  kneeling  round. 
Eye,  ear,  and  hand,  and  loving  heart, 
Body  and  soul  in  every  part, 
Successive  made  His  witnesses  that  hour, 
Cease  not  in  all  the  world  to  shew  His  saving 
power. 

Is  there,  on  earth,  a  spirit  frail, 
Who  fears  to  take  their  word, 

Scarce  daring,  through  the  twilight  pale, 
To  think  he  sees  the  Lord  ? 

With  eyes  too  tremblingly  awake 

To  bear  with  dimness  for  His  sake  ? 

Read  and  confess  the  hand  divine 
That  drew  thy  likeness  here  so  true  in  every  line. 

For  all  thy  rankling  doubts  so  sore, 

Love  thou  thy  Saviour  still, 
Him  for  thy  Lord  and  God  adore, 

And  ever  do  His  will. 
Though  vexing  thoughts  may  seem  to  last, 
Let  not  thy  soul  be  quite  o'ercast ; — 
Soon  will  he  shew  thee  all  His  wounds,  and 
say, 
"  Long  have  I  known  thy  name  J — know  thou 
My  face  alway." 

1  In  Exodus  xxxiii.  17,  God  says  to  Moses,  "I  know 
thee  by  name";  meaning,  "I  bear  especial  favour  to- 
wards thee."  Thus  our  Saviour  speaks  to  S.  Thomas 
by  name  in  the  place  here  referred  to. — J.  K. 


222   CONVERSION  OF  S.  PAUL 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  S.  PAUL 

And  he  fell  to  the  earth,  and  heard  a  voice  saying 
unto  him,  Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  me  ?  And 
he  said,  Who  art  thou,  Lord  ?  And  the  Lord  said,  I 
am  Jesus  whom  thou  persecutest.     Acts  ix.  4,  5. 

CHRIST'S   PRESENCE  IN  CHRISTIANS. 
March  2,  1822. 

The  Lord's  words  spoken  to  Saul  on  the  way  to 
Damascus  taught  him  the  great  truth  of  His  Presence 
in  each  Christian,  and  filled  him  with  zeal  and  love. 
May  that  Presence  control  our  thoughts,  make  our  zeal 
greater,  our  love  tenderer. 

THE  midday  sun,  with  fiercest  glare, 
Broods  o'er  the  hazy,  twinkling  air  ; 
Along  the  level  sand 
The  palm-tree's  shade  unwavering  lies, 
Just  as  thy  towers,  Damascus,  rise 
To  greet  yon  wearied  band. 

The  leader  of  that  martial  crew 
Seems  bent  some  mighty  deed  to  do, 

So  steadily  he  speeds, 
With  lips  firm  closed  and  fixed  eye, 
Like  warrior  when  the  fight  is  nigh, 

Nor  talk  nor  landscape  heeds. 

What  sudden  blaze  is  round  him  poured, 
As  though  all  Heaven's  refulgent  hoard 

In  one  rich  glory  shone  ? 
One  moment — and  to  earth  he  falls  : 
What  voice  his  inmost  heart  appals  ? — 

Voice  heard  by  him  alone. 


CONVERSION  OF  S.  PAUL    223 

For  to  the  rest  both  words  and  form 
Seem  lost  in  lightning  and  in  storm, 

While  Saul,  in  wakeful  trance, 
Sees  deep  within  that  dazzling  field 
His  persecuted  Lord  revealed 

With  keen  yet  pitying  glance  : 

And  hears  the  meek  upbraiding  call 
As  gently  on  his  spirit  fall, 

As  if  the  Almighty  Son 
Were  prisoner  yet  in  this  dark  earth, 
Nor  had  proclaimed  His  royal  birth, 

Nor  His  great  power  begun. 


"  Ah  !   wherefore  persecut'st  thou  Me  ?  " 
He  heard  and  saw,  and  sought  to  free 

His  strained  eye  from  the  sight  : 
But  Heaven's  high  magic  bound  it  there, 
Still  gazing,  though  untaught  to  bear 

The  insufferable  light. 

"  Who  art  Thou,  Lord  ? "  he  falters  forth 
So  shall  Sin  ask  of  Heaven  and  earth 

At  the  last  awful  day. 
"  When  did  we  see  Thee  suffering  nigh,1 
And  passed  Thee  with  unheeding  eye  ? 

Great  God  of  judgment,  say  !  " 

Ah  !   little  dream  our  listless  eyes 
What  glorious  presence  they  despise, 

While,  in  our  noon  of  life, 
To  power  or  fame  we  rudely  press  : — 
Christ  is  at  hand,  to  scorn  or  bless, 

Christ  suffers  in  our  strife. 

1  S.  Matthew  xxv.  44. 


224   CONVERSION  OF  S.  PAUL 

And  though  Heaven  gate  long  since  have  closed, 
And  our  dear  Lord  in  bliss  reposed 

High  above  mortal  ken, 
To  every  ear  in  every  land 
(Though  meek  ears  only  understand) 

He  speaks  as  He  did  then. 

"  Ah  !   wherefore  persecute  ye  Me  ? 
'Tis  hard,  ye  so  in  love  should  be 

With  your  own  endless  woe. 
Know,  though  at  God's  right  hand  I  live, 
I  feel  each  wound  ye  reckless  give 

To  the  least  saint  below. 

"  I  in  your  care  My  brethren  left, 
Not  willing  ye  should  be  bereft 

Of  waiting  on  your  Lord. 
The  meanest  offering  ye  can  make — 
A  drop  of  water — for  love's  sake,1 

In  Heaven,  be  sure,  is  stored." 

O  by  those  gentle  tones  and  dear, 
When  Thou  hast  stayed  our  wild  career, 

Thou  only  hope  of  souls, 
Ne'er  let  us  cast  one  look  behind, 
But  in  the  thought  of  Jesus  find 

What  every  thought  controls. 

As  to  Thy  last  Apostle's  heart 
Thy  lightning  glance  did  then  impart 

Zeal's  never-dying  fire, 
So  teach  us  on  Thy  shrine  to  lay 
Our  hearts,  and  let  them  day  by  day 

Intenser  blaze  and  higher. 

1  S.  Matthew  x.  42. 


THE  PURIFICATION     225 

And  as  each  mild  and  winning  note  l 
(Like  pulses  that  round  harp-strings  float 

When  the  full  strain  is  o'er) 
Left  lingering  on  his  inward  ear 
Music,  that  taught,  as  death  drew  near, 

Love's  lesson  more  and  more :  2 

So,  as  we  walk  our  earthly  round, 
Still  may  the  echo  of  that  sound 

Be  in  our  memory  stored : 
"  Christians  !   behold  your  happy  state  : 
Christ  is  in  these  who  round  you  wait ; 

Make  much  of  your  dear  Lord !  " 


THE  PURIFICATION 

Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God. 
S.  Matthew  v.  8. 

THE  PURIFICATION.     October  10,  1819. 

This  is  probably  the  earliest  poem  in  the  volume :  its 
date  is  181 9,  and  it  is  written  first  in  Mr  Keble's  own 
MS.  of  1820.  It  is  also  one  of  the  clearest  and 
simplest :  the  thought  being  that  now,  as  at  the  time 
of  the  Purification,  purity  and  lowliness  are  the 
qualities  which  enable  man  to  see  God.  There  was 
no  earthly  pomp  when,  as  on  this  day,  the  Prince 
entered  His  Temple,  but  the  angels  were  there,  and 
the  mother  undefiled  and  the  guileless  Joseph  and  the 
prayerful  Simeon  and  the  meek,  devout  Anna. 

1  "And  as  Thy  soft  meek  words  of  Love, 

Like  pulses  that  round  harp-strings  move." 

— MSS. 

2  Perhaps  there  is  a  reference  to  S.  Paul's  own 
account  of  his  conversion  as  given  late  in  life,  1  Tim. 
i.  12-16. 


226     THE  PURIFICATION 

D  LESS'D  are  the  pure  in  heart, 
For  they  shall  see  our  God, 

The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  theirs, 
Their  soul  is  Christ's  abode. 

Might  mortal  thought  presume 
To  guess  an  angel's  lay, 
Such  are  the  notes  that  echo  through 
The  courts  of  Heaven  to-day. 

Such  the  triumphal  hymns 
On  Sion's  Prince  that  wait, 
In  high  procession  passing  on 
Towards  His  temple-gate. 

Give  ear,  ye  kings — bow  down, 
Ye  rulers  of  the  earth — 
This,  this  is  He  !   your  Priest  by  grace, 
Your  God  and  King  by  birth. 

No  pomp  of  earthly  guards 
Attends  with  sword  and  spear, 
And  all-defying,  dauntless  look, 

Their  monarch's  way  to  clear ; 

Yet  are  there  more  with  Him 
Than  all  that  are  with  you — 
The  armies  of  the  highest  Heaven, 
All  righteous,  good,  and  true.1 

Spotless  their  robes  and  pure, 
Dipped  in  the  sea  of  light 
That  hides  the  unapproach&d  shrine 
From  men's  and  angels'  sight. 
1  Cf.  2  Kings  vi.  16. 


THE  PURIFICATION     227 

His  throne,  thy  bosom  blest, 
O  Mother  undefiled  ! 
That  throne,  if  aught  beneath  the  skies, 
Beseems  the  sinless  Child. 

Lost  in  high  thoughts,  "  whose  son 
The  wondrous  Babe  might  prove," 
Her  guileless  husband  walks  beside, 
Bearing  the  hallowed  dove ; 

Meet  emblem  of  His  vow, 
Who,  on  this  happy  day, 
His  dove-like  soul — best  sacrifice — 
Did  on  God's  altar  lay. 

But  who  is  he,  by  years 
Bowed,  but  erect  in  heart, 
Whose  prayers  are  struggling  with  his  tears  ? 
"  Lord,  let  me  now  depart ; 

"  Now  hath  Thy  servant  seen 
Thy  saving  health,  O  Lord  ; 
'Tis  time  that  I  depart  in  peace, 
According  to  Thy  word." 

Yet  swells  the  pomp  :   one  more 
Comes  forth  to  bless  her  God : 
Full  fourscore  years,  meek  widow,  she 
Her  heavenward  way  hath  trod. 

She  who  to  earthly  joys 
So  long  had  given 1  farewell, 
Now  sees,  unlooked  for,  Heaven  on  earth, 
Christ  in  His  Israel. 

1  "Given  " :  <•  bid  "  or  «  bidden."— MSS. 


228      S.  MATTHIAS'  DAY 

Wide  open  from  that  hour 
The  temple-gates  are  set, 
And  still  the  saints  rejoicing 1  there 
The  holy  Child  have  met. 

Now  count  His  train  to-day, 
And  who  may  meet  Him,  learn : 
Him  child-like  sires,  meek  maidens  find, 
Where  pride  can  nought  discern. 

Still  to  the  lowly  soul 
He  doth  Himself  impart, 
And  for  His  cradle  and  His  throne 
Chooseth  the  pure  in  heart. 


S.  MATTHIAS'  DAY 

Wherefore  of  these  men  which  have  companied  with 
us  all  the  time  that  the  Lord  Jesus  went  in  and  out 
among  us,  beginning  from  the  baptism  of  John,  unto 
that  same  day  that  he  was  taken  up  from  us,  must  one 
be  ordained  to  be  a  witness  with  us  of  his  resurrection. 
Acts  i.  2I;  22. 

THE   QUALIFICATION  FOR  THE 
PRIESTHOOD.     1820.  (?) 

God's  Priest  must  be  one  who  has  followed  Christ 
from  His  Cradle  to  His  Ascension,  and  learnt,  the 
lesson  of  His  agony  and  glory.  Yet  no  mortal  could 
undertake  the  task  had  not  Christ  promised  to  be 
with  His  Church,  as  Husband  to  support,  as  Guide 
to  direct  her:  therefore  only  those  whom  she  com- 
missions may  act  for  her.  We  dread  our  own  un- 
worthiness,  and  need  Christ's  help  to  teach  us. 

1  "  Rejoicing  " :   "  resorting."— MSS. 


S.  MATTHIAS'  DAY      229 

With  the  whole  poem,  cf.  Mr  Keble's  "Tract  for 
the  Times,"  No.  4,  "  Adherence  to  the  Apostolical 
Succession  the  Safest  Course." 

\A/HO  is  God's  chosen  priest  ? 
v  *       He  who   on   Christ  stands  waiting  day 

and  night, 
Who  traced  His  holy  steps,  nor  ever  ceased, 
From  Jordan  banks  to  Bethphage  height : 

Who  hath  learned  lowliness 
From  his  Lord's  cradle,  patience  from  His  Cross ; 
Whom  poor  men's  eyes  and  hearts  consent  to 
bless ; 
To  whom,  for  Christ,  the  world  is  loss ; 

Who  both  in  agony 
Hath  seen  Him  and  in  glory ;  and  in  both 
Owned  him  divine,  and  yielded,  nothing  loth, 
Body  and  soul,  to  live  and  die, 

In  witness  of  his  Lord, 
In  humble  following  of  his  Saviour  dear : 
This  is  the  man  to  wield  the  unearthly  sword, 
Warring  unharmed  with  sin  and  fear. 

But  who  can  e'er  suffice 1 — 
What  mortal — for  this  more  than  angels'  task, 
Winning  or  losing  souls,  Thy  life-blood's  price  .? 
The  gift  were  too  divine  to  ask, 

But  Thou  hast  made  it  sure 
By  Thy  dear  promise  to  Thy  Church  and  Bride, 
That  Thou,   on   earth,   wouldst   aye   with   her 
endure, 
Till  earth  to  Heaven  be  purified. 
1  Cf.  2  Cor.  ii.  16. 


230      S.  MATTHIAS'  DAY 

Thou  art  her  only  Spouse, 
Whose  arm  supports  her,  on  Whose  faithful  breast 
Her  persecuted  head  she  meekly  bows, 
Sure  pledge  of  her  eternal  rest. 

Thou,  her  unerring  Guide, 
Stayest  her  fainting  steps  along  the  wild ; 
Thy  mark  is  on  the  bowers  of  lust  and  pride, 
That  she  may  pass  them  undefiled. 

Who  then,  uncalled  by  Thee, 
Dare  touch  Thy  spouse,  Thy  very  self  below  ? 
Or  who  dare  count  him  summoned  worthily, 
Except  Thine  hand  and  seal  he  shew  ? 

Where  can  Thy  seal  be  found, 
But  on  the  chosen  seed,  from  age  to  age 
By  Thine  anointed  heralds  duly  crowned, 
As  kings  and  priests  Thy  war  to  wage  ? 

Then  fearless  walk  we  forth, 
Yet  full  of  trembling,  Messengers  of  God : 
Our  warrant  sure,  but  doubting  of  our  worth,1 
By  our  own  shame  alike  and  glory  awed. 

Dread  Searcher  of  the  hearts, 
Thou  who  didst  seal  by  Thy  descending  Dove 
Thy  servants'  choice,  O  help  us  in  our  parts,2 
Else  helpless  found,  to  learn  and  teach  Thy 
love. 

1  "  Not  doubting  our  commission  but  our  worth." 

— MSS. 

2  "But  Thou  who  know'st  all  hearts 

As  by  Thy  Spirit,  Thou  didst  the  choice  approve 
Of  Thine  Apostles,  help  us  in  our  parts." — MSS. 
The  original  form   seems  conclusive  evidence  that 
we   should   read   "  Thy  servants'  choice,"  not  "  Thy 
servant's  choice"  as  in  nearly  all  previous  editions. 


THE  ANNUNCIATION    231 

THE  ANNUNCIATION  OF  THE 
BLESSED  VIRGIN  MARY 

And  the  angel  came  in  unto  her,  and  said,  Hail,  thou 
that  art  highly  favoured,  the  Lord  is  with  thee,  blessed 
art  thou  among  women.     S.  Luke  i.  28. 

CHRIST'S  CONSECRATION  OF  THE  LOVE  OF 
MOTHER  AND  SON.  June  1,  1823.  March 
9,  1826. 

The  one  earthly  tie  which  Christ  sanctified  by  His 
own  example  was  that  between  Son  and  mother:  He 
being  the  true  Son,  She  the  true  mother  prepared  by 
God's  love  for  such  a  task,  and  therefore  worthy  of  all 
but  adoring  love  from  us.  And  the  blessing  that  was 
hers,  Christ  has  promised  to  all  who  do  His  Father's 
will. 

The  first  six  stanzas  were  written  soon  after  his 
own  mother's  death  in  May  1823.  They  were 
followed  then  by  four  stanzas,  in  which  he  con- 
fessed his  own  shortcomings  as  a  son,  and  prayed 
for  true  penitence  and  love  for  her  who  was  gone. 
These  were  felt  too  sacred  for  publication  when  the 
volume  first  appeared,  and  the  last  four,  written  in 
1826,  were  substituted  for  them.  The  original  four, 
which  have  since  been  published  in  the  "  Miscellaneous 
Poems,"  are  appended  here : 

"  Alas,  when  those  we  love  are  gone, 
Of  all  sad  thoughts,  'tis  only  one 

Brings  bitterness  indeed : 
The  thought  what  poor,  cold,  heartless  aid 
We  lent  to  cheer  them  while  they  stayed, 

This  makes  the  conscience  bleed. 

"  Lord,  by  Thy  love  and  by  Thy  power, 
And  by  the  sorrows  of  that  hour, 

Let  me  not  weep  too  late. 
Help  me  in  anguish  meet  and  true 
My  thankless  words  and  ways  to  rue, 
Now  justly  desolate. 


232    THE  ANNUNCIATION 

"  By  Thine  own  mother's  first  caress, 
Whom  Thou  with  smiles  so  sweet  didst  bless, 

Twas  heaven  on  earth  to  see  : 
Help  me  though  late  to  love  aright 
Her  who  has  glided  from  my  sight 

To  rest — dear  Saint — with  Thee. 

"  Thou  knowest  if  her  gentle  glance 
Look  on  us,  as  of  old,  to  enhance 

Our  evening  calm  so  sweet : 
But,  Son  of  Mary,  Thou  art  there : 
Oh  make  us  ('tis  a  mourner's  prayer) 

For  such  dear  visits  meet." 

f~\  !   Thou  who  deign'st  to  sympathise 
With  all  our  frail  and  fleshly  ties, 

Maker  yet  Brother  dear, 
Forgive  the  too  presumptuous  thought, 
If,  calming  wayward  grief,  I  sought 

To  gaze  on  Thee  too  near. 

Yet  sure  'twas  not  presumption,  Lord, 
'Twas  Thine  own  comfortable  word 

That  made  the  lesson  known  : 
Of  all  the  dearest  bonds  we  prove, 
Thou  countest  sons'  and  mothers'  love 

Most  sacred,  most  Thine  own. 

When  wandering  here  a  little  span, 
Thou  took'st  on  Thee  to  rescue  man, 

Thou  hadst  no  earthly  sire : 
That  wedded  love  we  prize  so  dear, 
As  if  our  heaven  and  home  were  here, 

It  lit  in  Thee  no  fire. 

On  no  sweet  sister's  faithful  breast 
Wouldst  Thou  Thine  aching  forehead  rest, 
On  no  kind  brother  lean  : 


OF  THE  VIRGIN  MARY    233 

But  who,  O  perfect  filial  heart, 
E'er  did  like  Thee  a  true  son's  part, 
Endearing,  firm,  serene  ? 

Thou  weptst,  meek  Maiden,  Mother  mild, 
Thou  weptst  upon  thy  sinless  Child, 

Thy  very  heart  was  riven  : 
And  yet,  what  mourning  matron  here 
Would  deem  thy  sorrows  bought  too  dear 

By  all  on  this  side  Heaven  ? 

A  Son  that  never  did  amiss, 

That  never  shamed  His  Mother's  kiss, 

Nor  crossed  her  fondest  prayer : 
Even  from  the  Tree  He  deigned  to  bow 
For  her  His  agonised  brow, 

Her,  His  sole  earthly  care. 

Ave  Maria  !   blessed  Maid ! 
Lily  of  Eden's  fragrant  shade, 

Who  can  express  the  love 
That  nurtured  thee  so  pure  and  sweet, 
Making  thy  heart  a  shelter  meet 

For  Jesus'  holy  Dove  ? 

Ave  Maria  !   Mother  blest, 

To  whom,  caressing  and  caressed, 

Clings  the  Eternal  Child ; 
Favoured  beyond  archangels'  dream, 
When  first  on  thee  with  tenderest  gleam 
Thy  new-born  Saviour  smiled  : — 

Ave  Maria !   thou  whose  name 
All  but  adoring  love  may  claim, 

Yet  may  we  reach  thy  shrine ; 


234         S.  MARK'S  DAY 

For  He,  thy  Son  and  Saviour,  vows 
To  crown  all  lowly  lofty  brows 
With  love  and  joy  like  thine. 

Bless'd  is  the  womb  that  bare  Him — bless'd l 
The  bosom  where  His  lips  were  pressed !  — 

But  rather  bless'd  are  they 
Who  hear  His  word  and  keep  it  well, 
The  living  homes  where  Christ  shall  dwell 

And  never  pass  away. 

S.  MARK'S  DAY 

And  the  contention  was  so  sharp  between  them,  that 
they  departed  asunder  one  from  the  other.  Acts  xv. 
39.  Cf.  2  Timothy  iv.  11.  Take  Mark,  and  bring 
him  with  thee :  for  he  is  profitable  to  me  for  the 
ministry. 

THE  RECONCILIATION  OF  CHRISTIANS.    1 820. 

How  little  can  we  rest  on  earthly  ties,  when  change 
and  dispute  can  separate  even  Apostles  as  they  did  S. 
Paul  from  S.  Barnabas  and  S.  Mark  !  Yet  even  on 
earth  the  reconciliation  may  come,  as  it  did  between 
S.  Paul  and  S.  Mark,  and,  if  not,  yet  though  their  path 
on  earth  be  divided,  faithful  Christians  shall  meet  in 
the  Saviour's  Presence,  with  all  mists  cleared  away. 

What  a  new  force  this  poem  must  have  gained  to  its 
writer  after  1845,  when  Newman  left  the  Church  of 
England  !  Miss  Yonge  rightly  quotes,  as  an  illustra- 
tion of  the  fourth  stanza,  the  meeting  of  Keble, 
Newman,  and  Pusey  at  Hursley  in  1865.  "Musings 
on  the  Christian  Year,"  p.  302 :  cf.  Coleridge's 
"Memoir,"  p.  517. 

/^\H  !   who  shall  dare  in  this  frail  scene 
^      On  holiest,  happiest  thoughts2  to  lean, 
On  Friendship,  Kindred,  or  on  Love? 
1  S.  Luke  xi.  27,  28. 
2 "Thoughts:  "  "  things."— MSS. 


S.  MARK'S  DAY         235 

Since  not  Apostles'  hands  can  clasp 
Each  other  in  so  firm  a  grasp, 

But  they  shall  change  and  variance  prove. 

Yet  deem  not,  on  such  parting  sad 
Shall  dawn  no  welcome  dear  and  glad  : 

Divided  in  their  earthly  race, 
Together  at  the  glorious  goal, 
Each  leading  many  a  rescued  soul, 

The  faithful  champions  shall  embrace. 

For  even  as  those  mysterious  Four, 
Who  the  bright  whirling  wheels  upbore 

By  Chebar  in  the  fiery  blast,1 
So,  on  their  tasks  of  love  and  praise 
The  Saints  of  God  their  several  ways 

Right  onward  speed,  yet  join  at  last. 

And  sometimes  even  beneath  the  moon 
The  Saviour  gives  a  gracious  boon, 

When  reconciled  Christians  meet, 
And  face  to  face  and  heart  to  heart, 
High  thoughts  of  holy  love  impart 

In  silence  meek  or  converse  sweet. 

Companion  of  the  Saints  !   'twas  thine 
To  taste  that  drop  of  peace  2  divine, 

When  the  great  soldier  of  thy  Lord 
Called  thee  to  take  his  last  farewell, 
Teaching  the  Church  with  joy  to  tell 

The  story  of  your  love  restored. 

1  They  turned  not  when  they  went ;  they  went  every 
one  straight  forward.     Ezekiel  i.  9. 

2  "That  drop  of  peace  " :  "that  cup  of  joy."— K.  z. 


236  S.  PHILIP  AND  S.  JAMES 

O  then  the  glory  and  the  bliss, 
When  all  that  pained  or  seemed  amiss 

Shall  melt  with  earth  and  sin  away ! 
When  Saints  beneath  their  Saviour's  eye, 
Filled  with  each  other's  company, 

Shall  spend  in  love  the  eternal  day  !  T 

S.  PHILIP  AND  S.  JAMES 

Let  the  brother  of  low  degree  rejoice  in  that  he  is 
exalted ;  but  the  rich,  in  that  he  is  made  low.  S. 
James  i.  9,  10. 

THE  STRAIN  OF  MIDDLE  AGE  LIGHTENED 
BY  THE  EXAMPLE  OF  CHRIST.  August 
3,  1825. 

As  summer  has  little  in  it  to  inspire  the  poet's  fancy, 
so  middle  age  has  little  that  is  inspiring,  and  is  forced 
to  surrender  the  pleasing  dreams  of  youth.  Yet  the 
Saviour  knew  the  loneliness  and  sadness  of  life :  He 
never  was  misled  by  youthful  fancies  of  perfect  happi- 
ness on  earth,  but  has  shown  us  how  to  pass  through 
sadness  to  a  deeper  joy  ;  hence  the  most  sensitive  soul 
in  its  deepest  suffering  can  find  soothing  and  content- 
ment in  His  Church. 

Compare  the  Twenty-second  Sunday  after  Trinity, 
and,  as  there,  Wordsworth's  ode  "  On  the  Intimations 
of  Immortality,"  especially  the  last  stanza  of  that  ode. 

pvEAR  is  the  morning  gale  of  spring, 
*-^      And  dear  the  autumnal  eve ; 
But  few  delights  can  summer  bring 
A  poet's  crown  to  weave. 

Her  bowers  are  mute,  her  fountains  dry, 

And  ever  Fancy's  wing 
Speeds  from  beneath  her  cloudless  sky 
To  autumn  or  to  spring. 
*  "  Shall  live  and  love  in  endless  day."— MSS. 


S.  PHILIP  AND  S.  JAMES    237 

Sweet  is  the  infant's  waking  smile, 
And  sweet  the  old  man's  rest — 

But  middle  age  by  no  fond  wile, 
No  soothing  calm  is  blest. 

Still  in  the  world's  hot  restless  gleam 

She  plies  her  weary  task, 
While  vainly  for  some  pleasant  dream 

Her  wandering  glances  ask. — 

O  shame  upon  thee,  listless  heart, 

So  sad  a  sigh  to  heave, 
As  if  thy  Saviour  had  no  part 

In  thoughts  that  make  thee  grieve. 

As  if  along  His  lonesome  way 
He  had  not  borne  for  thee 

Sad  languors  through  the  summer  day, 
Storms  on  the  wintry  sea. 

Youth's  lightning-flash  of  joy  secure 
Passed  seldom  o'er  His  spiight, — 

A  well  of  serious  thought  and  pure, 
Too  deep  for  earthly  light. 

No  spring  was  His — no  fairy  gleam — 

For  He  by  trial  knew 
How  cold  and  bare  what  mortals  dream, 

To  worlds  where  all  is  true.1 

1  "To  worlds  ":  i.e.  in  comparison  to  worlds  where 
all  is  true.     One  early  form  of  the  lines  was  : 

"  How  far  unlike  the  joys  we  dream 
To  joys  where  all  is  true." 


238  S.  BARNABAS 

Then  grudge  not  thou  the  anguish  keen 
Which  makes  thee  like  thy  Lord, 

And  learn  to  quit  with  eye  serene 
Thy  youth's  ideal  hoard. 

Thy  treasured  hopes  and  raptures  high — 
Unmurmuring  let  them  go, 

Nor  grieve  the  bliss  should  quickly  fly 
Which  Christ  disdained  to  know. 

Thou  shalt  have  joy  in  sadness  soon ; 

The  pure,  calm  hope  be  thine, 
Which  brightens,  like  the  eastern  moon, 

As  day's  wild  lights  decline. 

Thus  souls,  by  nature  pitched  too  high, 
By  sufferings  plunged  too  low, 

Meet  in  the  Church's  middle  sky, 
Half  way  'twixt  joy  and  woe, 

To  practise  there  the  soothing  lay 
That  sorrow  best  relieves  : 

Thankful  for  all  God  takes  away, 
Humbled  by  all  He  gives. 


S.  BARNABAS 

The  son  of  consolation,  a  Levite.     Acts  iv.  36. 

THE  CONSOLING  POWER  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN 
MINISTER  BOTH  IN  THIS  LIFE  AND  AFTER 
IT.     July  4,  1825. 

In  this  world  of  sickness  and  unrest  he  helps  most 
who  can  comfort  and  console  :  such  power  had  the  first 
Apostles :  such,  above  all,  S.  Barnabas,  the  son  of  con- 
solation, who,  by  entire  surrender  of  his  own  goods, 


S.  BARNABAS  239 

won  the  power  to  draw  others  to  Christ,  to  clear  away 
distrust  between  Christians,  and  to  carry  the  Church's 
alms  to  those  in  need.  Such  saints  even  when 
departed  may  still  sympathize  with  our  griefs,  and 
may  delight  to  think  that  while  they  love  and  praise 
in  Heaven,  they  still  help  Christ's  work  on  earth,  as 
their  memory  kindles  the  Christian  Pastor  to  like 
deeds  of  consolation. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  poem  which  expresses  so  beauti- 
fully the  influence  of  the  saints  after  death,  and  none 
which  so  truly  is  a  picture  of  Mr  Keble's  own  character 
and  work.  (Cf.  W.  Lock,  "Memoir  of  Keble," 
chapter  x.) 

"THE  world's  a  room  of  sickness,  where  each 
*  heart 

Knows  its  own  anguish  and  unrest ; 
The  truest  wisdom  there  and  noblest  art, 

Is  his  who  skills  of  comfort  best ; 1 
Whom  by  the  softest  step  and  gentlest  tone 
Enfeebled  spirits  own, 
And  love  to  raise  the  languid  eye, 
When,  like  an  angel's  wing,  they  feel  him  fleeting 
by:- 

Feel  only — for  in  silence  gently  gliding 

Fain  would  he  shun  both  ear  and  sight, 
'Twixt   prayer   and   watchful    love    his    heart 
dividing, 
A  nursing-father  day  and  night. 
Such  were  the  tender  arms  where  cradled  lay, 
In  her  sweet  natal  day, 
The  Church  of  Jesus;   such  the  love 
He  to  His  chosen  taught  for  his  dear  widowed 
Dove. 

1  Compare  the  Twenty-fourth  Sunday  after  Trinity, 
written  a  month  before. 


24o  S.  BARNABAS 

Warmed  underneath  the  Comforter's1  safe  wing 

They  spread  the  endearing  warmth  around : 
Mourners,   speed   here   your   broken    hearts    to 
bring, 
Here  healing  dews  and  balms  abound  : 
Here  are  soft  hands  that  cannot  bless  in  vain, 
By  trial  taught  your  pain  : 
Here  loving  hearts,  that  daily  know 
The  heavenly  consolations  they  on  you  bestow. 

Sweet  thoughts  are  theirs,  that  breathe  serenest 
calms, 
Of  holy  offerings  timely  paid,2 
Of  fire  from  Heaven  to  bless  their  votive  alms 

And  passions  on  God's  altar  laid. 
The  world  to  them   is  closed,  and  now  they 
shine 
With  rays  of  love  divine, 
Through  darkest  nooks  of  this  dull  earth 
Pouring,  in  showery  times,  their  glow  of  "  quiet 
mirth." 

New  hearts  before  their  Saviour's  feet  to  lay, 
This  is  their  first,  their  dearest  joy  : 

Their  next,  from  heart  to   heart  to   clear   the 
way3 
For  mutual  love  without  alloy : 

luThe  Comforter."  There  is  probably  a  connection 
drawn  between  the  comforter  (6  irapa.KkT]Tb$)  and  the 
son  of  comfort  (vlos  trapaKk-qaewi).  Compare  also  2 
Cor.  i.  3-7. 

2  Having  land,  sold  it,  and  brought  the  money,  and 
laid  it  at  the  apostles'  feet.     Acts  iv.  37. 

3  Barnabas  took  him,  and  brought  him  (Saul)  to  the 
apostles.     Acts  ix.  27. 


S.  BARNABAS  241 

Never  so  blest  as  when  in  Jesus'  roll 
They  write  some  hero-soul, 
More  pleased  upon  his  brightening  road 
To  wait,  than  if  their  own  with  all  his  radiance 
glowed.1 

O  happy  spirits,  marked  by  God  and  man 

Their  messages  of  love  to  bear,2 
What  though  long  since  in  Heaven  your  brows 
began 
The  genial  amarant  wreath  to  wear, 
And  in  the  eternal  leisure  of  calm  love 
Ye  banquet  there  above, 
Yet  in  your  sympathetic  heart 
We  and  our  earthly  griefs  may  ask  and  hope  a  part. 

Comfort's  true  sons  !   amid  the  thoughts  of  down 

That  strew  your  pillow  of  repose, 
Sure  'tis  one  joy  to  muse  how  ye,  unknown, 

By  sweet  remembrance  soothe  our  woes, 
And  how  the  spark  ye  lit  of  heavenly  cheer 
Lives  in  our  embers  here,8 

Where'er  the  Cross  is  borne  with  smiles, 
Or  lightened  secretly  by  Love's  endearing  wiles  : 

Where'er  one  Levite  in  the  temple  keeps 
The  watch-fire  of  his  midnight  prayer, 

Or  issuing  thence,  the  eyes  of  mourners  steeps 
In  heavenly  balm,  fresh  gathered  there ; 

1  So  Keble  himself  watched  with  delight  the  growing 
brightness  of  his  pupil  Hurrell  Froude  and  of  Newman. 

2  Acts  xi.  22  ;   xiii.  2. 

3  Cf.  Wordsworth's  ode  "On   Intimations  of   Im- 
mortality " : 

"  O  joy  that  in  our  embers 
Is  something  that  doth  live." 

Q 


242    S.  JOHN  BAPTIST'S  DAY 

Thus  saints,  that  seem  to  die  in  earth's  rude 
strife, 
Only  win  double  life  : 
They  have  but  left  our  weary  ways 
To  live  in  memory  here,1  in  heaven  by  love  and 
praise. 


S.  JOHN  BAPTIST'S  DAY 

Behold,  I  will  send  you  Elijah  the  prophet  before 
the  coming  of  the  great  and  dreadful  day  of  the  Lord : 
and  he  shall  turn  the  heart  of  the  fathers  to  the  children, 
and  the  heart  of  the  children  to  their  fathers. 

Malachi  iv.  5,  6. 

A  PRAYER  FOR  THE  CLERGY— THAT  THE 
SPIRIT  OF  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST  MAY  BE 
THEIRS.     April  11,  1826. 

Twice  hath  Elijah  appeared,  first  in  his  own  person, 
then  in  that  of  John  the  Baptist,  and  we  need  him  once 
more  to  warn  us  in  this  "  season  of  decay."  But  he 
has  passed  to  heaven  and  has  welcomed  John  there, 
and  while  they  are  praying  for  us,  it  is  the  duty  of  the 
Church's  Pastors  to  show  the  spirit  of  John,  his  courage, 
his  self-denial  and  prayer,  his  self-suppression,  that  so, 
teaching  <;  first  filial  duty,  then  divine,"  they  may  draw 
all  to  Christ. 

nPWICE  in  her  season  of  decay 
1       The  fallen  Church  hath  felt  Elijah's 

eye 
Dart  from  the  wild  its  piercing  ray : 
Not  keener  burns,  in  the  chill  morning  sky, 
The  herald  star, 
Whose  torch  afar 
Shadows  and  boding  night-birds  fly. 

1  "  To  live  by  healing  here."— MSS. 


S.  JOHN  BAPTIST'S  DAY    243 

Methinks  we  need  him  once  again, 
That   favoured  seer  —  but  where   shall    he   be 
found  ? 
By  Cherith's  side  we  seek  in  vain, 
In  vain  on  Carmel's  green  and  lonely  mound : 
Angels  no  more 
From  Sinai  soar, 
On  his  celestial  errands  bound. 

But  wafted  to  her  glorious  place 
By  harmless  fire,  among  the  ethereal  thrones, 

His  spirit  with  a  dear  embrace 
Thee  the  loved  harbinger  of  Jesus  owns, 
Well-pleased  to  view 
Her  likeness  true, 
And  trace,  in  thine,  her  own  deep  tones. 

Deathless  himself,  he  joys  with  thee 
To  commune  how  a  faithful  martyr  dies ; 

And  in  the  blest  could  envy  be, 
He  would  behold  thy  wounds  with  envious  eyes, 
Star  of  our  morn, 
Who,  yet  unborn,1 
Didst  guide  our  hope  where  Christ  should  rise.2 

Now  resting  from  your  jealous  care 
For  sinners,  such  as  Eden  cannot  know, 

Ye  pour  for  us  your  mingled  prayer, — 
No  anxious  fear  to  damp  Affection's  glow  ; 
Love  draws  a  cloud 
From  you  to  shroud 
Rebellion's  mystery  here  below. 

1The  babe  leaped   in  my  womb  for  joy.     S.  Luke 
i.  44. 

2 "Didst  warn  us  where  the  sun  should  rise." — MSS. 


244   S.   JOHN  BAPTIST'S  DAY 

And  since  we  see,  and  not  afar, 
The  twilight  of  the  great  and  dreadful  day, 

Why  linger  till  Elijah's  car 
Stoop  from  the  clouds  ?    Why  sleep  ye  ?  rise  and 
pray, 
Ye  heralds  sealed 
In  camp  or  field 
Your  Saviour's  banner  to  display ! 

Where  is  the  lore  the  Baptist  taught, 
The  soul  unswerving  and  the  fearless  tongue  ? 

The  much-enduring  wisdom,  sought 
By  lonely  prayer  the  haunted  rocks  among  ? 
Who  counts  it  gain  1 
His  light  should  wane, 
So  the  whole  world  to  Jesus  throng  ? 

Thou  Spirit  who  the  Church  didst  lend 
Her  eagle  wings,  to  shelter  in  the  wild,2 

We  pray  Thee,  ere  the  Judge  descend, 
With  flames  like  these,  all  bright  and  undefiled, 
Her  watchfires  light, 
To  guide  aright 
Our  weary  souls,  by  earth  beguiled. 

So  glorious  let  Thy  Pastors  shine, 
That  by  their  speaking  lives  the  world  may  learn 
First  filial  duty,  then  divine,3 

1  He  must  increase,  but  I  must  decrease.  S.  John 
iii.  30.  2  Revelation  xii.  14. 

3  He  shall  turn  the  heart  of  the  fathers  to  the 
children,  and  the  heart  of  the  children  to  their  fathers. 
Malachi  iv.  6. 

To  turn  the  hearts  of  the  fathers  to  the  children,  and 
the  disobedient  to  the  wisdom  of  the  just ;  to  make 
ready  a  people  prepared  for  the  Lord.  S.  Luke  i.  17. 
Compare  Trinity  Sunday,  st.  17  (p.  144). 


S.  PETER'S  DAY         245 

That  sons  to  parents,  all  to  Thee  may  turn  ; 
And  ready  prove 
In  fires  of  love, 
At  sight  of  Thee,  for  aye  to  burn. 

S.  PETER'S  DAY 

When   Herod  would   have   brought   him   forth,   the 
same  night  Peter  was  sleeping.     Acts  xii.  6. 

S.  PETER'S  DAY.     May  15,  1825:  but  begun 

in  1824. 
The  scene  described  is  that  of  S.  Peter's  sleep  on  the 
night  of  his  arrest  by  Herod.  Christ  watches  by  the 
sleeper  and  makes  his  dreams  peaceful  with  the  thought 
of  His  past  love,  especially  of  His  loving  look  in  the 
Judgment-hall,  and  of  the  last  scene  on  the  Lake  of 
Galilee,  when  he  was  told  that  hereafter  another  should 
gird  him  and  carry  him  whither  he  would  not.  The 
sleep  is  broken,  as  he  thinks,  by  the  executioner  coming 
for  him,  but  it  is  an  Angel  who  leads  him  into  freedom, 
and  he  turns  himself  back  to  his  task  of  feeding  Christ's 
sheep,  till  the  time  of  his  crucifixion  shall  come. 

"PHOU  thrice  denied,  yet  thrice  beloved,1 
Watch  by  Thine  own  forgiven  friend  ; 
In  sharpest  perils  faithful  proved, 
Let  his  soul  love  Thee  to  the  end. 

The  prayer  is  heard — else  why  so  deep 
His  slumber  on  the  eve  of  death  ? 

And  wherefore  smiles  he  in  his  sleep 
As  one  who  drew  celestial  breath  ? 

He  loves  and  is  beloved  again — 
Can  his  soul  choose  but  be  at  rest  ? 

Sorrow  hath  fled  away,  and  pain 
Dares  not  invade  the  guarded  nest. 
1  S.  John  xxi.  15-17. 


246         S.  PETER'S  DAY 

He  dearly  loves,  and  not  alone : 

For  his  winged  thoughts  are  soaring  high 

Where  never  yet  frail  heart  was  known 
To  breathe  in  vain  Affection's  sigh. 

He  loves  and  weeps — but  more  than  tears 
Have  sealed  Thy  welcome  and  his  love — 

One  look  lives  in  him,  and  endears 

Crosses  and  wrongs,  where'er  he  rove  ; 

That  gracious  chiding  look,1  Thy  call 
To  win  him  to  himself  and  Thee, 

Sweetening  the  sorrow  of  his  fall 
Which  else  were  rued  too  bitterly. 

Even  through  the  veil  of  sleep  it  shines, 
The  memory  of  that  kindly  glance  ; — 

The  angel  watching  by  divines 

And  spares  awhile  his  blissful  trance. 

Or  haply  to  his  native  lake 

His  vision  wafts  him  back,  to  talk 

With  Jesus,  ere  His  flight  He  take, 
As  in  that  solemn  evening  walk,2 

When  to  the  bosom  of  His  friend, 

The  Shepherd,  He  whose  name  is  Good, 

Did  His  dear  lambs  and  sheep  commend, 
Both  bought  and  nourished  with  His  blood  : 

1  S.  Luke  xxii.  61.  The  language  seems  borrowed 
from  the  prayer  in  Jeremy  Taylor's  Holy  Living,  IV. 
§  10  (vol.  iii.  p.  242,  ed.  Eden.).  "  Blessed  be  Thy  name, 
O  holy  Jesus,  and  blessed  be  Thy  mercy,  Who,  when 
Thy  servant  Peter  denied  Thee,  and  forsook  Thee,  and 
forswore  Thee,  didst  look  back  upon  him,  and  by  that 
gracious  and  chiding  look  didst  call  him  back  to  him- 
self and  Thee." 

2Cf.  S.  John  xxi.  15-19. 


S.  PETER'S  DAY         247 

Then  laid  on  him  the  inverted  tree,1 

Which  firm  embraced  with  heart  and  arm, 

Might  cast  o'er  hope  and  memory, 
O'er  life  and  death,  its  awful  charm. 

With  brightening  heart  he  bears  it  on, 
His  passport  through  the  eternal  gates, 

To  his  sweet  home — so  nearly  won, 
He  seems,  as  by  the  door  he  waits, 

The  unexpressive  2  notes  to  hear 
Of  angel  song  and  angel  motion, 

Rising  and  falling  on  the  ear 

Like  waves  in  Joy's  unbounded  ocean. — 

His  dream  is  changed — the  Tyrant's  voice 
Calls  to  that  last  of  glorious  deeds — 

But  as  he  rises  to  rejoice, 

Not  Herod  but  an  angel  leads. 

He  dreams  he  sees  a  lamp  flash  bright, 
Glancing  around  his  prison  room — 

But  'tis  a  gleam  of  heavenly  light 
That  fills  up  all  the  ample  gloom. 

1  The  inverted  tree.  "  He  was  crucified  with  his 
head  downwards,  having  himself  requested  to  suffer  in 
this  way.'' — Origen  ap.  Euseb.  iii.  i. 

2  "  Unexpressive  "  :  i.e.  ineffable.  Cf.  apprjTa  p-q^ara 
of  2  Cor.  xii.  4.  Keble  has  probably  borrowed  the 
phrase  from  Milton,  "  Ode  on  the  Nativity,"  112: 

"Harping  in  loud  and  solemn  quire 
With  unexpressive  notes  to  heaven's  new-born  heir." 

Cf.  also  Lycidas,  175. 


248         S.  JAMES'S  DAY 

The  flame,  that  in  a  few  short  years 

Deep  through  the  chambers  of  the  dead 

Shall  pierce,  and  dry  the  fount  of  tears, 
Is  waving  o'er  his  dungeon-bed.1 

Touched  he  upstarts — his  chains  unbind — 
Through  darksome  vault,  up  massy  stair, 

His  dizzy,  doubting  footsteps  wind 
To  freedom  and  cool  moonlight  air. 

Then  all  himself,  all  joy  and  calm, 
Though  for  a  while  his  hand  forego, 

Just  as  it  touched,  the  martyr's  palm, 
He  turns  him  to  his  task  below  : 

The  pastoral  staff,  the  keys  of  Heaven, 
To  wield  awhile  in  grey-haired  might, 

Then  from  his  cross  to  spring  forgiven, 
And  follow  Jesus  out  of  sight. 

S.  JAMES'S  DAY 

Ye  shall  drink  indeed  of  My  cup,  and  be  baptized 
with  the  baptism  that  I  am  baptized  with  :  but  to  sit 
on  My  right  hand  and  on  My  left,  is  not  mine  to  give ; 
but  it  shall  be  given  to  them  for  whom  it  is  prepared  of 
My  Father.     S.  Matthew  xx.  23. 

S.  JAMES'S  DAY.  October  7,  1823. 
The  example  of  S.  James — prepared  by  the  sight  of 
the  Transfiguration  to  drink  of  Christ's  cup — leads  to 
a  prayer  for  each  Christian  that  the  visions  of  Christ's 
glory  which  are  given  us  sometimes  on  earth,  as,  for 
instance,  at  the  sight  of  some  "  holy  placid  death."  may 

1  2  Peter  iii.  9-1 1  ;  Rev.  xxi.  4.  The  heavenly  light 
which  saves  him  from  death,  is  the  same  which  ere  long 
at  the  Resurrection  will  awake  all  the  dead  and  bring 
them  to  Him  who  will  wipe  away  all  tears. 


S.  JAMES'S  DAY  249 

nerve  him  to  endure  suffering  until  the  time  of  id 
shall  come. 

The  poem  was  probably  written  at  a  time  when 
Keble's  heart  was  still  full  of  the  thought  of  his 
mother's  death. 

CIT  down  and  take  thy  fill  of  joy 

^      At  God's  right  hand,  a  bidden  guest, 

Drink  of  the  cup  that  cannot  cloy, 

Eat  of  the  bread  that  cannot  waste. 
O  great  Apostle  !    rightly  now 

Thou  readest  all  thy  Saviour  meant, 
What  time  His  grave  yet  gentle  brow 

In  sweet  reproof  on  thee  was  bent. 

M  Seek  ye  to  sit  enthroned  by  Me  ? 

Alas  !   ye  know  not  what  ye  ask ! 
The  first  in  shame  and  agony, 

The  lowest  in  the  meanest  task — 
This  can  ye  be  ?  and  can  ye  drink 

The  cup  that  I  in  tears  must  steep, 
Nor  from  the  whelming  waters  shrink 

That  o'er  Me  roll  so  dark  and  deep  ? " 

"We  can — Thine  are  we,  dearest  Lord, 
In  glory  and  in  agony, 
To  do  and  suffer  all  Thy  word  ; 
Only  be  Thou  for  ever  nigh." 
"  Then  be  it  so  ;    My  cup  receive, 
And  of  My  woes  baptismal  taste  ; 
But  for  the  crown  that  angels  weave 
For  those  next  Me  in  glory  placed. 

"  I  give  it  not  by  partial  love  ; 

But  in  My  Father's  book  are  writ 
What  names  on  earth  shall  lowliest  prove, 
That  they  in  Heaven  may  highest  sit." 


250         S.  JAMES'S  DAY 

Take  up  the  lesson,  O  my  heart ; 

Thou  Lord  of  meekness,  write  it  there, 
Thine  own  meek  self  to  me  impart, 

Thy  lofty  hope,  Thy  lowly  prayer : 

If  ever  on  the  mount  with  Thee 

I  seem  to  soar  in  vision  bright, 
With  thoughts  of  coming  agony  x 

Stay  Thou  the  too  presumptuous  flight : 
Gently  along  the  vale  of  tears 

Lead  me  from  Tabor's  2  sunbright  steep, 
Let  me  not  grudge  a  few  short  years 

With  Thee  tow'rd  Heaven  to  walk  and 
weep: 

Too  happy,  on  my  silent  path, 

If  now  and  then  allowed,  with  Thee 
Watching  some  placid  holy  death, 

Thy  secret  work  of  love  to  see ; 
But,  oh  !   most  happy,  should  Thy  call, 

Thy  welcome  call,  at  last  be  given — 
"  Come  where  thou  long  hast  stored  thy  all, 

Come  see  thy  place  prepared  in  Heaven." 

1  Likewise  shall  also  the  Son  of  Man  suffer  of  them. 
S.  Matthew  xvii.  12.  This  was  just  after  the  Trans- 
figuration.— J.  K. 

2  Tabor,  the  supposed  scene  of  the  Transfiguration, 
but  against  this  identification  see  Archbishop  Trench, 
"Studies  in  the  Gospels,"  p.  195;  Ruskin,  " Modern 
Painters,"  Part  v.  chap.  xx.  §  48. 


S.  BARTHOLOMEW      251 


S.  BARTHOLOMEW 

Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him,  Because  I  said 
unto  thee,  I  saw  thee  under  the  fig-tree,  believest 
thou?  thou  shalt  see  greater  things  than  these.  S. 
John  i.  50. 

S.  BARTHOLOMEW'S  DAY.       1821. 

As  a  mirror  reflects  alike  the  dazzling  rays  of  the 
sun  and  the  simple  colours  and  flowers  of  earth,  so 
the  Bible  reflects  the  Image  of  God  and  the  very- 
life  of  man  ;  and  we  trust  that  the  former  is  true  be- 
cause we  know  that  the  latter  is  true.  The  Bible 
pierces  into  the  secrets  of  our  heart  and  reveals  us  to 
ourselves,  as  Christ  read  Nathanael's  heart  and  drew 
forth  his  worship.  Simple  faith,  like  his,  daily  sees 
fresh  witnesses  of  God  on  every  side,  but  the  first 
call  that  appealed  directly  to  his  heart  remains 
always  the  surest  witness. 

The  earlier  part  of  the  poem,  with  the  metaphor 
of  the  portrait,  is  based  upon  the  quotation  from 
Miller's  "  Bampton  Lectures"  (p.  252,  note),  but 
the  metaphors  are  awkwardly  mixed,  the  Bible 
being  compared  to  a  mirror,  a  portrait,  and  a 
speaking  voice. 

LJOLD  up  thy  mirror  to  the  sun, 

And  thou  shalt  need  an  eagle's  gaze, 
So  perfectly  the  polished  stone 
Gives  back  the  glory  of  his  rays : 

Turn  it,  and  it  shall  paint  as  true 
The  soft  green  of  the  vernal  earth, 

And  each  small  flower  of  bashful  hue, 
That  closest  hides  its  lowly  birth. 

Our  mirror  is  a  blessed  book, 

Whereout  from  each  illumined  page 

We  see  one  glorious  Image  look, 
All  eyes  to  dazzle  and  engage, 


25 2      S.  BARTHOLOMEW 

The  Son  of  God  :  and  that  indeed 
We  see  Him  as  He  is,  we  know, 

Since  in  the  same  bright  glass  we  read 
The  very  life  of  things  below. — 

Eye  of  God's  word  ! l  where'er  we  turn 

Ever  upon  us  !   thy  keen  gaze 
Can  all  the  depths  of  sin  discern, 

Unravel  every  bosom's  maze  : 

Who  that  has  felt  thy  glance  of  dread 
Thrill  through  his  heart's  remotest  cells, 

About  his  path,  about  his  bed, 

Can  doubt  what  spirit  in  thee  dwells  ? 

"  What  word  is  this  ?    Whence  know'st  thou 
me?" 

All  wondering  cries  the  humbled  heart, 
To  hear  thee  that  deep  mystery, 

The  knowledge  of  itself,  impart. 

The  veil  is  raised  ;  who  runs  may  read, 
By  its  own  light  the  truth  is  seen, 

And  soon  the  Israelite  indeed 

Bows  down  t'  adore  the  Nazarene. 

1  "  The  position  before  us  is,  that  we  ourselves,  and 
such  as  we,  are  the  very  persons  whom  Scripture  speaks 
of,  and  to  whom,  as  men,  in  every  variety  of  persuasive 
form,  it  makes  its  condescending  though  celestial  appeal. 
The  point  worthy  of  observation  is.  to  note  how  a  book 
of  the  description  and  the  compass  which  we  have  repre- 
sented Scripture  to  be,  possesses  this  versatility  of  power ; 
this  eye,  like  that  of  a  portrait,  uniformly  fixed  upon  us, 
turn  where  we  will." — Miller's  "  Bampton  Lectures," 
p.  128  (Ed.  2).     J.  K. 


S.  BARTHOLOMEW      253 

So  did  Nathanael,  guileless  man, 
At  once,  not  shame-faced  or  afraid, 

Owning  Him  God  who  so  could  scan 
His  musings  in  the  lonely  shade : 

In  his  own  pleasant  fig-tree's  shade, 
Which  by  his  household  fountain  grew, 

Where  at  noon-day  his  prayer  he  made 
To  know  God  better  than  he  knew. 

Oh  !   happy  hours  of  heavenward  thought ! 

How  richly  crowned  !   how  well  improved  ! 
In  musing  o'er  the  Law  he  taught, 

In  waiting  for  the  Lord  he  loved. 

We  must  not  mar  with  earthly  praise 

What  God's  approving  word  hath  sealed ; 

Enough,  if  right  our  feeble  lays 
Take  up  the  promise  He  revealed ; 

"  The  child-like  faith,  that  asks  not  sight, 
Waits  not  for  wonder  or  for  sign, 

Believes,  because  it  loves,  aright — 
Shall  see  things  greater,  things  divine. 

11  Heaven  to  that  gaze  shall  open  wide, 
And  brightest  angels  to  and  fro 

On  messages  of  love  shall  glide 

Twixt  God  above  and  Christ  below." 

So  still  the  guileless  man  is  blest, 

To  him  all  crooked  paths  are  straight, 

Him  on  his  way  to  endless  rest 

Fresh,  ever-growing  strengths  await.1 

1  They  go  from  strength  to  strength.    Psalm  lxxxiv.  7. 


254  S.  MATTHEW 

God's  witnesses,  a  glorious  host, 
Compass  him  daily  like  a  cloud ;  l 

Martyrs  and  seers,  the  saved  and  lost, 
Mercies  and  judgments  cry  aloud. 

Yet  shall  to  him  the  still  small  voice, 
That  first  into  his  bosom  found 

A  way,  and  fixed  his  wavering  choice, 
Nearest  and  dearest  ever  sound. 


S.  MATTHEW 

And  after  these  things  He  went  forth  and  saw  a 
publican,  named  Levi,  sitting  at  the  receipt  of  custom  : 
and  he  said  unto  him.  Follow  Me.  And  he  left  all, 
rose  up,  and  followed  him.     S.  Luke  v.  27,  28. 

THE  CONSECRATION  OF  RICHES  AND  OF 
CITY  LIFE.     September  14,  1822. 

Those  who  live  a  sheltered  religious  life  in  country 
scenes  may  doubt  whether  Christian  faith  can  exist  in 
crowded  cities  ;  but  Christian  love  and  hope  can  bloom 
in  any  place :  Christ's  Presence  may  be  in  the  heart  of 
men  of  business,  who  take  delight  in  remembering  how 
S.  Matthew  gave  up  all  for  Christ  and  drew  sinners 
near  to  Him.  What  peace  then  should  theirs  be  who 
ever  see  the  work  of  God  in  the  country  !  yet  worldli- 
ness  can  make  a  Babel  even  of  Paradise. 

This  poem  was  written  just  after  a  visit  to  the 
Misses  Tucker  at  Town  Mailing,  the  three  sisters  of 
Mr  Keble's  friend,  the  Rev.  J.  Tucker.  It  is  perhaps 
not  fanciful  to  think  that  they  were  primarily  in  his 
mind  in  the  first  verse ;  and  that  the  reference  to  men 
or  women  living  the  religious  life  in  monasteries  or 
sisterhoods  is  secondary. 

For  the  whole  poem,  cf.  H.  Vaughan's  "  Retirement," 
and  especially  the  last  two  lines — 
"  If  Eden  be  on  earth  at  all, 
Tis  that  which  we  the  country  call." 

1  Cf.  Hebrews  xii.  1. 


S.  MATTHEW  255 

YE  hermits  blest,  ye  holy  maids, 

The  nearest  Heaven  on  earth, 
Who  talk  with  God  in  shadowy  glades, 

Free  from  rude  care  and  mirth  ; 
To  whom  some  viewless  teacher  brings 
The  secret  lore  of  rural  things, 
The  moral  of  each  fleeting  cloud  and  gale, 
The  whispers  from  above,  that  haunt  the  twilight 
vale : 

Say,  when  in  pity  ye  have  gazed 
On  the  wreathed  smoke  afar, 
That  o'er  some  town,  like  mist  upraised, 

Hung  hiding  sun  and  star, 
Then  as  ye  turned  your  weary  eye 
To  the  green  earth  and  open  sky, 
Were  ye  not  fain  to  doubt  how  Faith  could 
dwell 
Amid  that  dreary  glare,  in  this  world's  citadel  ? 

But  Love's  a  flower  that  will  not  die 

For  lack  of  leafy  screen, 
And  Christian  Hope  can  cheer  the  eye 

That  ne'er  saw  vernal  green ; 
Then  be  ye  sure  that  Love  can  bless 
Even  in  this  crowded  loneliness, 
Where  ever-moving  myriads  seem  to  say, 
Go — thou  art  nought  to  us,  nor  we  to  thee — 
away ! 

There  are  in  this  loud  stunning  tide 

Of  human  care  and  crime, 
With  whom  the  melodies  abide 

Of  the  everlasting  chime  ; 


256 


S.  MATTHEW 


Who  carry  music  in  their  heart 
Through  dusky  lane  and  wrangling  mart, 
Plying  their  daily  task  with  busier  feet, 
Because  their  secret  souls  a  holy  strain  repeat.1 

How  sweet  to  them,  in  such  brief  rest 

As  thronging  cares  afford, 
In  thought  to  wander,  fancy-blest, 

To  where  their  gracious  Lord, 
In  vain,  to  win  proud  Pharisees, 
Spake,  and  was  heard  by  fell  disease — 
But  not  in  vain,  beside  yon  breezy  lake, 
Bade  the  meek  publican  his  gainful  seat  forsake  :2 

At  once  he  rose,  and  left  his  gold  ; 

His  treasure  and  his  heart 
Transferred,  where  he  shall  safe  behold 

Earth  and  her  idols  part ; 
While  he  beside  his  endless  store 
Shall  sit,  and  floods  unceasing  pour 
Of  Christ's  true  riches  o'er  all  time  and  space, 
First  angel  of  His  Church,  first  steward  of  His 
Grace  : 

Nor  can  ye  not  delight  to  think 
Where  He  vouchsafed  to  eat, 

How  the  Most  Holy  did  not  shrink 
From  touch  of  sinners'  meat ; 

What  worldly  hearts  and  hearts  impure 

Went  with  Him  through  the  rich   man's 
door, 

1  il  The  mo<;t  perfect  specimen  of  Mr  Keble's  versifica- 
tion."— Miss  Yonge. 

2  It  seems  from  S.  Matthew  ix.  8,  9,  that  the  calling 
of  Levi  took  place  immediately  after  the  healing  of  the 
paralytic  in  the  presence  of  the  Pharisees. — J.  K. 


5    VATTHZ™  :r- 


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....    v  -    .......    .':. _      ..'!,.    ......      .    .  .  T  - 

A.:.: 


ii-_     lallt     Lilt     f"  7 


1.1' 1   n::i.i 


mi:    .iif.'-i 


:    T*i?v 


-.:   .    ;.:):.:it'.'    :•: 


:: '  i.       ...irr- 


258        S.  MICHAEL  AND 
S.  MICHAEL  AND  ALL  ANGELS 

Are  they  not  all  ministering  spirits,  sent  forth  to 
minister  for  them  who  shall  be  heirs  of  salvation  ? 

Hebrews  i.  14. 

S.  MICHAEL  AND  ALL  ANGELS.     1821. 

The  angels, — who  are  like  eagles  in  Heaven — are 
implored  to  let  earth's  faint  warblers  combine  with 
their  praise  ;  for  they,  victorious  in  their  own  struggle, 
are  always  ready  to  help  struggling  man.  They  were 
present  at  Bethlehem,  at  the  Temptation,  at  Gethsemane, 
at  the  Resurrection :  they  foretold  Christ's  coming  again, 
and  we  could  not  venture  to  face  that  day,  were  it  not 
that  the  Lord  and  our  Angel-friends  will  meet  us 
there.  May  they  at  that  day  find  Christ's  mark  upon 
us  still,  and  rejoice  over  our  penitence. 

Cf.  S.  Luke  ii.  13.  S.  Matt.  iv.  n.  S.  Luke  xxii. 
43.  S.  Matt,  xxviii.  5.  Acts  i.  11.  S.  Matt,  xviii. 
10.    S.  Luke  xv.  10. 

E  stars  that  round  the  Sun  of  Righteousness 

In  glorious  order  roll, 
With   harps   for    ever   strung,  ready   to  bless 

God  for  each  rescued  soul, 
Ye  eagle  spirits,  that  build  in  light  divine, 

Oh  !   think  of  us  to-day, 
Faint  warblers  of  this  earth,  that  would  combine 
Our  trembling  notes  with  your  accepted  lay. 

Your  amarant  wreaths  were  earned  ;  and  home- 
ward all, 

Flushed  with  victorious  might, 
Ye  might  have  sped  to  keep  high  festival 

And  revel  in  the  light ; 
But  meeting  us,  weak  worldlings,  on  our  way, 

Tired  ere  the  tight  begun, 
Ye  turned  to  help  us  in  the  unequal  fray, 
Remembering  Whose  we  were,  how  dearly  won  : 


Y 


ALL  ANGELS  259 

Remembering  Bethlehem,  and  that  glorious  night 

When  ye,  who  used  to  soar 
Diverse  along  all  space  in  fiery  flight, 

Came  thronging  to  adore 
Your  God  new-born,  and  made  a  sinner's  child  ; 

As  if  the  stars  should  leave 
Their  stations  in  the  far  ethereal  wild, 
And  round  the  sun  a  radiant  circle  weave. 

Nor  less  your  lay  of  triumph  greeted  fair 
Our  Champion  and  your  King, 

In  that  first  strife,  whence  Satan  in  despair 
Sunk  down  on  scathed  wing  : 

Alone  He  fasted,  and  alone  He  fought ; 
But  when  His  toils  were  o'er, 

Ye  to  the  sacred  Hermit  duteous  brought 

Banquet  and  hymn,  your  Eden's  festal  store.1 

Ye  too,  when  lowest  in  the  abyss  of  woe 
He  plunged  to  save  His  sheep, 

Were  leaning  from  your  golden  thrones  to  know 
The  secrets  of  that  deep  : 

But  clouds  were  on  His  sorrow :  one  alone 
His  agonising  call 

Summoned  from  Heaven  to  still   that  bitterest 
groan, 

And  comfort  Him,  the  Comforter  of  all. 

Oh  !   highest  favoured  of  all  Spirits  create, 

(If  right  of  thee  we  deem) 
How  didst  thou  glide  on  brightening  wing  elate 

To  meet  the  unclouded  beam 

1  Cf.  Milton,  "Paradise  Regained,"  iv.  562-639. 


260       S.  MICHAEL  AND 

Of  Jesus  from  the  couch  of  darkness  rising  ! 
How  swelled  thine  anthem's  sound, 
With  fear  and  mightier  joy  weak  hearts  surprising, 
"  Your  God  is  risen,  and  may  not  here  be  found !  " 

Pass  a  few  days,  and  this  dull  darkling  globe 
Must  yield  Him  from  her  sight  ; — 

Brighter  and  brighter  streams  His  glory- robe, 
And  He  is  lost  in  light. 

Then,  when  through  yonder  everlasting  arch, 
Ye  in  innumerous 1  choir 

Poured  heralding  Messiah's  conquering  march, 

Lingered  around  His  skirts  two  forms  of  fire : 

With  us  they  stayed,  high  warning  to  impart ; 

"  The  Christ  shall  come  again 
Even  as  He  goes ;  with  the  same  human  heart, 

With  the  same  Godlike  train." — 
Oh  !  jealous  God  !   how  could  a  sinner  dare 

Think  on  that  dreadful  day, 
But  that  with  all  Thy  wounds  Thou  wilt  be  there, 
And  all  our  angel  friends  to  bring  Thee  on  Thy 
way? 

Since  to  Thy  little  ones  is  given  such  grace, 
That  they  who  nearest  stand 

Alway  to  God  in  Heaven,  and  see  His  face, 
Go  forth  at  His  command, 

To  wait  around  our  path  in  weal  or  woe, 
As  erst  upon  our  King, 

Set  Thy  baptismal  seal  upon  our  brow, 

And  waft  us  heavenward  with  enfolding  wing  : 

2  "  Innumerous  :  "  i.e.  beyond  all  count.  Cf.  Milton, 
"  Paradise  Lost,"  vii.  455  ;  "  Comus,"  348.  The 
language  of  the  whole  poem  recalls  that  of  Milton. 


ALL  ANGELS  261 

Grant,  Lord,  that  when  around  the  expiring  world 

Our  Seraph  guardians  wait, 
While  on  her  death-bed,  ere  to  ruin  hurled, 

She  owns  thee,  all  too  late, 
They  to  their  charge  may  turn,  and  thankful  see 

Thy  mark  upon  us  still  ; 
Then  all  together  rise,  and  reign  with  Thee, 
And  all  their  holy  joy  o'er  contrite  hearts  fulfil ! 

S.  LUKE 

Luke,  the  beloved  physician,  and  Demas,  greet  you. 
Colossians  iv.  14. 

Demas  hath  forsaken  me,  having  loved  this  present 
world.  .  .  Only  Luke  is  with  me.    2  Timothy  iv.  10,11. 

S.  LUKE.     April  6,  1822. 
The  fortunes  of  S.  Luke  and  Demas  are  types  of  the 
different  destinies  of  men,  and  teach  us  that  no  position 
of  privilege,  no  nearness  to  the  saints,  can  save  without 
the  true  pilgrim's  heart. 

pWO  clouds  before  the  summer  gale 
In  equal  race  fleet  o'er  the  sky  ; 
Two  flowers,  when  wintry  blasts  assail, 
Together  pine,  together  die. 

But  two  capricious  human  hearts — 
No  sage's  rod  may  track  their  ways, 

No  eye  pursue  their  lawless  starts 
Along  their  wild  self-chosen  maze. 

He  only,  by  Whose  sovereign  Hand 

Even  sinners  for  the  evil  day  x 
Were  made — who  rules  the  world  He  planned, 

Turning  our  worst  His  own  good  way ; 
1  The  Lord  hath  made  all  things  for  Himself;  yea, 
even  the  wicked  for  the  day  of  evil.     Proverbs  xvi.  4. 


262  S.  LUKE 

He  only  can  the  cause  reveal, 

Why,  at  the  same  fond  bosom  fed, 

Taught  in  the  self-same  lap  to  kneel 
Till  the  same  prayer  were  duly  said, 

Brothers  in  blood  and  nurture  too 
Aliens  in  heart  so  oft  should  prove ; 

One  lose,  the  other  keep,  Heaven's  clue ; 
One  dwell  in  wrath,  and  one  in  love. 

He  only  knows, — for  He  can  read 
The  mystery  of  the  wicked  heart, — 

Why  vainly  oft  our  arrows  speed 
When  aimed  with  most  unerring  art ; 

While  from  some  rude  and  powerless  arm 

A  random  shaft  in  season  sent 
Shall  light  upon  some  lurking  harm, 

And  work  some  wonder  little  meant.1 

Doubt  we  how  souls  so  wanton  change, 
Leaving  their  own  experienced  rest  ? 

Need  not  around  the  world  to  range ; 
One  narrow  cell  may  teach  us  best. 

Look  in,  and  see  Christ's  chosen  saint 
In  triumph  wear  his  Christ-like  chain  ; 

No  fear  lest  he  should  swerve  or  faint ; 
"  His  life  is  Christ,  his  death  is  gain."  2 

1  "  See  Scott's  <  Marmion.'  "— MSS.  The  reference 
is  to  the  effect  of  the  Palmer's  words  on  Marmion. 
Canto  iii.  13,  14: 

"  Thus  oft  it  haps,  that  when  within 
They  shrink  at  sense  of  secret  sin, 

A  feather  daunts  the  brave ; 
A  fool's  wild  speech  confounds  the  wise, 
And  proudest  princes  veil  their  eyes 
Before  their  meanest  slave." 

2  Philippians  i.  21. 


S.  LUKE  263 

Two  converts,  watching  by  his  side, 
Alike  his  love  and  greetings  share  ; 

Luke  the  beloved,  the  sick  soul's  guide, 
And  Demas,  named  in  faltering  prayer. 

Pass  a  few  years — look  in  once  more — 
The  saint  is  in  his  bonds  again  ; 

Save  that  his  hopes  more  boldly  soar,1 
He  and  his  lot  unchanged  remain. 

But  only  Luke  is  with  him  now  : — 
Alas !   that  even  the  martyr's  cell, 

Heaven's  very  gate,  should  scope  allow 
For  the  false  world's  seducing  spell. 

'Tis  sad — but  yet  'tis  well,  be  sure, 
We  on  the  sight  should  muse  awhile, 

Nor  deem  our  shelter  all  secure 
Even  in  the  Church's  holiest  aisle. 

Vainly  before  the  shrine  he  bends 

Who  knows  not  the  true  pilgrim's  part : 

The  martyr's  cell  no  safety  lends 

To  him  who  wants  the  martyr's  heart. 

But  if  there  be  who  follows  Paul 

As  Paul  his  Lord,  in  life  and  death, 

Where'er  an  aching  heart  may  call, 
Ready  to  speed  and  take  no  breath ; 

1  In  the  Epistle  to  the  Philippians,  "  I  know  that  I 
shall  abide  and  continue  with  you  all :  ...  I  count 
not  myself  to  have  apprehended,"  i.  25  ;  iii.  13. 

In  2  Timothy,  "  I  have  finished  my  course,"  etc.,  iv. 
7,  8— J.  K. 


264  S.   LUKE 

Whose  joy  is,  to  the  wandering  sheep 
To  tell  of  the  great  Shepherd's  love  ; 

To  learn  of  mourners  while  they  weep 
The  music  that  makes  mirth  above  ; l 

Who  makes  the  Saviour  all  his  theme, 
The  Gospel  all  his  pride  and  praise — 

Approach :   for  thou  canst  feel  the  gleam 
That  round  the  Martyr's  death-bed  plays : 

Thou  hast  an  ear  for  angels'  songs, 
A  breath  the  Gospel  trump  to  fill, 

And  taught  by  thee  the  Church  prolongs 
Her  hymns  of  high  thanksgiving  still.2 

Ah  !   dearest  Mother,  since  too  oft 
The  world  yet  wins  some  Demas  frail 

Even  from  thine  arms,  so  kind  and  soft, 
May  thy  tried  comforts  never  fail ! 

When  faithless  ones  forsake  thy  wing, 
Be  it  vouchsafed  thee  still  to  see 

Thy  true,  fond  nurslings  closer  cling, 
Cling  closer  to  their  Lord  and  thee. 

1  The  gospel  of  S.  Luke  abounds  most  in  such 
passages  as  the  parable  of  the  lost  sheep,  which  dis- 
play God's  mercy  to  penitent  sinners. — J.  K. 

2  The  Christian  hymns  are  all  in  S.  Luke:  the 
Magnificat,  Benedictus,  and  Nunc  Dimittis. — J.  K. 


S.  SIMON  AND  S.  JUDE    263 


S.  SIMON  AND  S.  JUDE 

That  ye  should  earnestly  contend  for 1  the  faith 
which  was  once  delivered  unto  the  saints.     S.  Jude  3. 

THE  BLESSING  OF  COMRADESHIP. 
April  3,  1826. 

As  at  the  time  of  the  Church's  greatest  sorrow,  be- 
tween the  Crucifixion  and  the  Resurrection,  S.  John 
took  the  Virgin  (the  type  of  the  Church)  to  his  home 
for  comfort ;  as  also  our  Lord  sent  out  His  apostles 
two  by  two  ;  so  He  always  loves  to  see  His  servants  tluly 
paired  and  helping  each  other,  old  with  young,  eager 
students  with  simple  souls,  saddened  penitents  with 
cheerful  spirits  ;  such  comradeship  gives  strength  in 
the  darkest  hours. 

The  first  few  verses  describe  the  days  after  the 
Crucifixion,  (cf.  the  Sunday  after  Ascension  Day) 
but  perhaps  they  are  coloured  by  reference  to  later 
persecutions  of  the  Church,  as  in  the  time  of  the 
Commonwealth,  when  its  ministers  had  to  take  refuge 
in  the  private  houses  of  the  Cavaliers  (cf.  the  poem  for 
the  Restoration  of  the  Royal  Family). 

C  EEST  thou  how  tearful  and  alone, 
^     And  drooping  like  a  wounded  dove, 
The  cross  in  sight,  but  Jesus  gone, 

The  widowed  Church  is  fain  to  rove  ? 

Who  is  at  hand  that  loves  the  Lord  ? 2 
Make  haste  and  take  her  home,  and  bring 

Thine  household  choir,  in  true  accord 
Their  soothing  hymns  for  her  to  sing. 

1  eiraywi/lteadcu :  "  be  very  anxious  for  it  " :  u  feel 
for  it  as  for  a  friend  in  jeopardy. "' — J.  K. 

2  Then  saith  he  to  the  disciple,  Behold  thy  mother ! 
And  from  that  hour  that  disciple  took  her  unto  his  own 
home.     S.  John  xix.  27. 


266    S.  SIMON  AND  S.  JUDE 

Soft  on  her  fluttering  heart  shall  breathe 
The  fragrance  of  that  genial  isle, 

There  she  may  weave  her  funeral  wreath, 
And  to  her  own  sad  music  smile. 

The  Spirit  of  the  dying  Son 
Is  there,  and  fills  the  holy  place 

With  records  sweet  of  duties  done, 

Of  pardoned  foes  and  cherished  grace. 

And  as  of  old  by  two  and  two1 
His  herald  Saints  the  Saviour  sent 

To  soften  hearts  like  morning  dew, 
Where  He  to  shine  in  mercy  meant ; 

So  evermore  He  deems  His  Name 

Best  honoured,  and  His  way  prepared, 

When  watching  by  His  altar-flame 
He  sees  His  servants  duly  paired. 

He  loves  when  age  and  youth  are  met, 
Fervent  old  age  and  youth  serene, 

Their  high  and  low  in  concord  set 
For  sacred  song,  Joy's  golden  mean.2 

He  loves  when  some  clear  soaring  mind 

Is  drawn  by  mutual  piety 
To  simple  souls  and  unrefined, 

Who  in  life's  shadiest  covert  lie. 

Or  if  perchance  a  saddened  heart 

That  once  was  gay  and  felt  the  spring, 

Cons  slowly  o'er  its  altered  part, 
In  sorrow  and  remorse  to  sing, 

1  S.  Mark  vi.  7.     S.  Luke  x.  1. 

2  Cf.  S.  Philip  and  S.  James,  st.  12  and  13  (p.  238). 


ALL  SAINTS'  DAY       267 

Thy  gracious  care  will  send  that  way 
Some  spirit  full  of  glee,  yet  taught 

To  bear  the  sight  of  dull  decay, 

And  nurse  it  with  all-pitying  thought ; 

Cheerful  as  soaring  lark,  and  mild 

As  evening  black-bird's  full-toned  lay, 

When  the  relenting  sun  has  smiled 

Bright  through  a  whole  December  day. 

These  are  the  tones  to  brace  and  cheer 

The  lonely  watcher  of  the  fold, 
When  nights  are  dark,  and  foemen  near, 

When  visions  fade  and  hearts  grow  cold. 

How  timely  then  a  comrade's  song 
Comes  floating  on  the  mountain  air, 

And  bids  thee  yet  be  bold  and  strong — 
Fancy  may  die,  but  Faith  is  there. 


ALL   SAINTS'  DAY 

Hurt  not  the  earth,  neither  the  sea,  nor  the  trees,  till 
we  have  sealed  the  servants  of  our  God  in  their  fore- 
heads.    Revelation  vii.  3. 

October  28,  1825. 

As  on  a  quiet  autumn  day  the  winds  seem  bound 
and  waiting  till  the  last  flower  shall  fade,  so  in  the 
world  God's  judgments  seem  stayed,  and  it  is  because 
He  is  waiting  till  some  saint  or  some  penitent  is  ready 
for  the  skies,  or  because  the  prayers  of  some  simple  soul 
are  still  upholding  the  fabric  of  the  world.  May  such 
saints  still  fight  their  fight  until  they  are  ready  to  join 
the  saints  above. 

\A7 HY  blow'st  thou  not,  thou  wintry  wind, 

Now  every  leaf  is  brown  and  sere, 
And  idly  droops,  to  thee  resigned, 
The  fading  chaplet  of  the  year  ? 


268       ALL  SAINTS'  DAY 

Yet  wears  the  pure  aerial  sky 
Her  summer  veil,  half  drawn  on  high, 
Of  silvery  haze,  and  dark  and  still 
The  shadows  sleep  on  every  slanting  hill. 

How  quiet  shews 1  the  woodland  scene  ! 

Each  flower  and  tree,  its  duty  done, 
Reposing  in  decay  serene, 

Like  weary  men  when  age  is  won, 
Such  calm  old  age  as  conscience  pure 
And  self-commanding  hearts  ensure, 
Waiting  their  summons  to  the  sky, 
Content  to  live,  but  not  afraid  to  die. 

Sure,  if  our  eyes  were  purged  to    trace 
God's  unseen  armies  hovering  round, 
We  should  behold  by  angels'  grace 

The   four    strong    winds   of   Heaven    fast 
bound, 
Their  downward  sweep  a  moment  stayed 
On  ocean  cove  and  forest  glade, 
Till  the  last  flower  of  autumn  shed 
Her  funeral  odours  on  her  dying  bed. 

So  in  Thine  awful  armoury,  Lord, 

The  lightnings  of  the  judgment  day 
Pause  yet  awhile,  in  mercy  stored, 

Till  willing  hearts  wear  quite  away 
Their  earthly  stains  ;  and  spotless  shine 
On  every  brow  in  light  divine 
The  Cross  by  angej  hands  impressed, 
The  seal  of  glory  won,  and  pledge  of  promised 
rest. 

1  See  p.  170,  note. 


ALL  SAINTS'  DAY       269 

Little  they  dream,  those  haughty  souls 

Whom  empires  own  with  bended  knee, 
What  lowly  fate  their  own  controls, 

Together  linked  by  Heaven's  decree  ;  — 
As  bloodhounds  hush  their  baying  wild 
To  wanton  with  some  fearless  child,1 
So  Famine  waits,  and  War  with  greedy  eyes, 
Till  some  repenting  heart  be  ready  for  the  skies. 

Think  ye  the  spires  that  glow  so  bright 

In  front  of  yonder  setting  sun, 
Stand  by  their  own  unshaken  might  ? 

No — where  the  upholding  grace  is  won, 
We  dare  not  ask,  nor  Heaven  would  tell  ; 
But  sure  from  many  a  hidden  dell, 
From  many  a  rural  nook  unthought  of  there, 
Rises  for  that  proud  world  the  Saints'  prevail- 
ing prayer. 

On,  Champions  blest,  in  Jesus'  name, 

Short  be  your  strife,  your  triumph  full, 
Till  every  heart  have  caught  your  flame, 
And,  lightened  of  the  world's  misrule, 
Ye  soar  those  elder  Saints  to  meet, 
Gathered  long  since  at  Jesus'  feet, 
No  world  of  passions  to  destroy, 
Your  prayers  and  struggles  o'er,  your  task  all 
praise  and  joy. 

1  Cf.   "  Lyra  Innocentium,"  "  Children  with  dumb 
creatures,"  st.  3  : 

"  And  as  thou  hold'st  the  creatures  dear, 
So  are  they  fain  on  thee  to  wait : 
Bloodhounds  at  thy  caress  abate 
Their  bayings  wild." 


270     HOLY  COMMUNION 


HOLY  COMMUNION 

January  31,  1827. 

Sinners  shrink  back  from  the  awful  Presence  of  God 
in  the  Eucharist,  but  the  Church  draws  them  near  with 
the  comfortable  words  of  invitation,  and  by  the  sense  of 
the  presence  of  the  Saints  and  Angels  joining  in  our 
Eucharistic  praise. 

Q   GOD  of  Mercy,  God  of  Might, 

How  should  pale  sinners  bear l  the  sight, 
If,  as  Thy  power  is  surely  here, 
Thine  open  glory  should  appear ! 

For  now  Thy  people  are  allowed 
To  scale  the  mount  and  pierce  the  cloud, 
And  Faith  may  feed  her  eager  view 
With  wonders  Sinai  never  knew. 

Fresh  from  the  atoning  sacrifice 
The  world's  Creator  bleeding  lies, 
That  man,  His  foe,  by  whom  He  bled, 
May  take  Him  for  his  daily  bread. 

O  agony  of  wavering  thought 
When  sinners  first  so  near  are  brought ! 
"  It  is  my  Maker — dare  I  stay  ? 
My  Saviour — dare  I  turn  away  ?  " 

Thus  while  the  storm  is  high  within 
'Twixt  love  of  Christ  and  fear  of  sin, 
Who  can  express  the  soothing  charm, 
To  feel  thy  kind  upholding  arm, 

1  "Bear":  «  brook."— MSS. 


HOLY  COMMUNION      271 

My  mother  Church  ?  and  hear  thee  tell 
Of  a  world  lost,  yet  loved  so  well, 
That  He,  by  whom  the  angels  live, 
His  only  Son  for  her  would  give  r l 

And  doubt  we  yet  ?  thou  call'st  again  ; 
A  lower  still,  a  sweeter  strain  ; 
A  voice  from  Mercy's  inmost  shrine, 
The  very  breath  of  Love  Divine. 

Whispering  it  says  to  each  apart, 
"  Come  unto  Me,  thou  trembling  heart  w  ;  2 
And  we  must  hope,  so  sweet  the  tone, 
The  precious  words  are  all  our  own. 

Hear  them,  kind  Saviour — hear  Thy  spouse 
Low  at  Thy  feet  renew  her  vows ; 
Thine  own  dear  promise  she  would  plead 
For  us  her  true  though  fallen  seed. 

She  pleads  by  all  Thy  mercies,  told 

Thy  chosen  witnesses  of  old, 

Love's  heralds  sent  to  man  forgiven, 

One  from  the  Cross,3  and  one  from  Heaven.4 

This,  of  true  penitents  the  chief, 
To  the  lost  spirit  brings  relief, 

1  "  So  God  loved  the  world,  that  He  gave  His  only- 
begotten  Son."  See  the  Sentences  in  the  Communion 
Service,  after  the  Confession. — J.  K. 

2  "  Come  unto  me  all  that  travail  and  are  heavy  laden, 
and  I  will  refresh  you." 

3  "One  from  the  Cross":  i.e.  S.  John.  (S.  John 
xix.  26.) 

4  "One  from  Heaven":  i.e.  S.  Paul.  (Acts  xxvi. 
15-18.) 


272     HOLY  COMMUNION 

Lifting  on  high  the  ador&d  Name : — 
"  Sinners  to  save,  Christ  Jesus  came."  l 

That,  dearest  of  Thy  bosom  friends, 
Into  the  wavering  heart  descends  : — 
"  What !  fallen  again  ?  yet  cheerful  rise, 
Thine  Intercessor  never  dies."  2 

The  eye  of  Faith,  that  waxes  bright 
Each  moment  by  Thine  altar's  light, 
Sees  them  e'en  now :  they  still  abide 
In  mystery  kneeling  at  our  side ; 

And  with  them  every  spirit  blest, 
From  realms  of  triumph  or  of  rest, 
From  him  who  saw  creation's  morn, 
Of  all  Thine  angels  eldest  born,3 

To  the  poor  babe,  who  died  to-day, 
Take  part  in  our  thanksgiving  lay, 
Watching  the  tearful  joy  and  calm, 
While  sinners  taste  Thine  heavenly  balm. 

Sweet  awful  hour !   the  only  sound 
One  gentle  footstep  gliding  round, 
Offering  by  turns  on  Jesus'  part 
The  Cross  to  every  hand  and  heart. 

1  i*  This  is  a  true  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  men  to  be 
received,  that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save 
sinners." 

2  "  If  any  man  sin,  we  have  an  advocate  with  the 
Father,  Jesus  Christ  the  righteous." 

8  "  Therefore  with  Angels  and  Archangels  and  with 
all  the  company  of  Heaven  we  laud  and  magnify  Thy 
glorious  name." 


HOLY  BAPTISM  273 

Refresh  us,  Lord,  to  hold  it  fast ; 
And  when  Thy  veil  is  drawn  at  last, 
Let  us  depart  where  shadows  cease, 
With  words  of  blessing  and  of  peace. 


HOLY  BAPTISM 

GOD'S  PRESENCE  IN  THE  BAPTIZED  CHILD. 

April  13,  1826.    Written  as  for  the  Eighth  Sunday 

after  Trinity,  with  Romans  viii.  15  as  text,  and 

suggested  by  the  baptism  of  his  brother's  eldest  son. 

The  happy  parents  who  bring  their  child  to  Holy 

Baptism  are  sent  happier  away,  as  they  take  it  home 

with  its  new  life  arid  new  consecration,  so  that   they 

see  a  new  meaning  in  each  movement  and  expression, 

and  find  God's  Presence  more  clearly  there  than  in  the 

stars  or  in  the  flowers.     May  the  child  early  know 

that  Presence  too. 

"VA/HERE  is  it  mothers  learn  their  love  ? — 
In  eveiy  Church  a  fountain  springs 
O'er  which  the  eternal  Dove 
Hovers  on  softest  wings. 

What  sparkles  in  that  lucid  flood 
Is  water,  by  gross  mortals  eyed : 
But  seen  by  Faith,  'tis  blood 
Out  of  a  dear  Friend's  side. 

A  few  calm  words  of  faith  and  prayer, 
A  few  bright  drops  of  holy  dew, 
Shall  work  a  wonder  there, 
Earth's  charmers  never  knew. 

O  happy  arms,  where  cradled  lies, 
And  ready  for  the  Lord's  embrace, 
That  precious  sacrifice, 
The  darling  of  His  grace  ! 


274         HOLY  BAPTISM 

Blest  eyes,  that  see  the  smiling  gleam 
Upon  the  slumbering  features  glow, 
When  the  life-giving  stream 
Touches  the  tender  brow  ! 

Or  when  the  holy  cross  is  signed, 
And  the  young  soldier  duly  sworn 
With  true  and  fearless  mind 
To  serve  the  Virgin-born. 

But  happiest  ye,  who  sealed  and  blest 
Back  to  your  arms  your  treasure  take, 
With  Jesus'  mark  impressed, 
To  nurse  for  Jesus'  sake :  1 

To  whom — as  if  in  hallowed  air 

Ye  knelt  before  some  awful  shrine — 
His  innocent  gestures  wear 
A  meaning  half  divine  : 

By  whom  Love's  daily  touch  is  seen 

In  strengthening  form  and  freshening  hue, 
In  the  fixed  brow  serene, 
The  deep  yet  eager  view. — 

Who  taught  thy  pure  and  even  breath 
To  come  and  go  with  such  sweet  grace  ? 
Whence  thy  reposing  faith, 
Though  in  our  frail  embrace  ? 

0  tender  gem,  and  full  of  Heaven ! 
Not  in  the  twilight  stars  on  high, 

Not  in  moist  flowers  at  even 
See  we  our  God  so  nigh. 

1  Cf.  Exodus  ii.  9.     Take  the  child  away  and  nurse 
it  for  me. 


CATECHISM  275 

Sweet  one,  make  haste  and  know  Him  too, 
Thine  own  adopting  Father  love, 
That  like  thine  earliest  dew 
Thy  dying  sweets  may  prove.1 

CATECHISM 

THE  POWER  OF  CHILDREN  TO  LEARN  THE 
TRUTH.     February    16,  1827.     The  MS.    adds 
the  text — S.  Mark  x.  14:  Suffer  litde  children  to 
come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not. 
Though  children  may  not  understand  all  they  learn, 
yet  they  can  take  it  in,  and  in  time  unwind  its  har- 
monies ;  for  Our  Lord  was  taught  as  a  child,  and  loved 
to  speak  of  Heaven  in  the  presence  of  children.    Though 
angels  praise  Him,  He  loves  also  to  hear  the  simplest 
attempt  of  children:  their  praises  maybe  imperfect; 
yet  so  are  our  own  prayers,  we  are  only  half  conscious 
of  their  meaning :  to  the  angels  they  mean  much  more; 
but  to  God  they  mean  much  more  even  than  to  the 
angels  :  yet  God  accepts  them. 

(~\H  !   say  not,  dream  not,  heavenly  notes 

To  childish  ears  are  vain, 
That  the  young  mind  at  random  floats, 

And  cannot  reach  the  strain. 
1  "  Sweets " :  sweet — R.  ;  but  the  plural  is  common 
in    17th    and    18th    century  writers    in    the    sense   of 
"  sweetness,"   "  pleasures/'       Cf.    Milton,    "  Paradise 
Lost,"  iv.  760: 

"  Hail  wedded  love,  .  .  . 
Perpetual  fountain  of  domestic  sweets." 
The  meaning  seems  to   be:  that  as  the  waters  of 
Baptism  tell  of  God's  love  to  you,  so  your  dying  happi- 
ness may  be  a  witness  to  the  same  love  having  followed 
you  all  your  life.     Cf.  S.  James's  Day,  st.  6,  p.  250  : 
"Too  happy,  on  my  silent  path, 
If  now  and  then  allowed,  with  Thee 
Watching  some  placid  holy  death, 
Thy  secret  work  of  love  to  see. " 


276  CATECHISM 

Dim  or  unheard  the  words  may  fall, 
And  yet  the  heaven-taught  mind 

May  learn  the  sacred  air,  and  all 
The  harmony  unwind.1 

Was  not  our  Lord  a  little  child, 

Taught  by  degrees  to  pray, 
By  father  dear  and  mother  mild 

Instructed  day  by  day  ? 

And  loved  He  not  of  Heaven  to  talk 

With  children  in  His  sight, 
To  meet  them  in  His  daily  walk, 

And  to  His  arms  invite  ? 

What  though  around  His  throne  of  lire 

The  everlasting  chant 
Be  wafted  from  the  seraph  choir 

In  glory  jubilant  ? 

Yet  stoops  He,  ever  pleased  to  mark 

Our  rude  essays  of  love, 
Faint  as  the  pipe  of  wakening  lark, 

Heard  by  some  twilight  grove : 

Yet  is  He  near  us,  to  survey 

These  bright  and  ordered  files, 

Like  spring-flowers  in  their  best  array, 
All  silence  and  all  smiles, 

1         "  The  sacred  words  unheard  may  fall. 
And  yet  the  heaven-taught  ear 
At  pleasure  may  the  chant  recall 
And  love  the  music  dear." 

So  K.  and  R.     The  latter  has  not  the  verse  here,  but 
inserts  it  after  stanza  8. 


CATECHISM  277 

Save  that  each  little  voice  in  turn 
Some  glorious  truth  proclaims, 

What  sages  would  have  died  to  learn, 
Now  taught  by  cottage  dames. 

And  if  some  tones  be  false  or  low, 
What  are  all  prayers  beneath 

But  cries  of  babes,  that  cannot  know 

Half  the  deep  thought  they  breathe  ? 

In  His  own  words  we  Christ  adore, 

But  Angels,  as  we  speak, 
Higher  above  our  meaning  soar 

Than  we  o'er  children  weak : 1 

And  yet  His  words  mean  more  than  they,2 
And  yet  He  owns  their  praise: 

Why  should  we  think  He  turns  away 
From  infants'  simple  lays  ? 

1  Compare  the  poem  for  the  Fourth  Sunday  after 
Advent. 

2  «'  More  than  they  "  :  i.e.  than  the  angels.  There 
is  a  picture  of  a  hierarchy  of  prayer.  The  Lord's 
Prayer  is  lifted  up  from  sphere  to  sphere  as  it  is  uttered 
by  a  child,  by  a  man,  by  an  angel :  in  each  it  gains  a 
fresh  meaning  and  power :  and  in  each  it  falls  short  of 
the  full  meaning  which  it  conveys  to  God. 

Compare  the  Evening  Hymn  for  Emigrants  ("Mis- 
cellaneous Poems,"  p.  10 1)  : 

**  We  say  the  prayer  our  Saviour  taught 
As  household  words  with  homely  thought : 
But  angels  bear  it  on  and  on 
In  all  its  meaning  to  the  Throne." 


278         CONFIRMATION 


CONFIRMATION 

February  21,  1827. 

As  the  Israelites  in  the  wilderness  sometimes  rested 
with  the  cloud  overshadowing  them,  then  at  the  sign  of 
the  pillar  of  fire  moved  forth  to  war :  so  the  Holy  Spirit 
first  rests  on  Christ's  champions  in  Confirmation,  and 
then  sends  them  forth  fearless  to  face  life.  Hence  their 
love  is  both  steady  and  fixed  like  stars  reflected  in  the 
ice,  and  also  gentle  and  soft  in  its  influence  on  life. 
May  the  Spirit  which  has  this  double  power  shelter 
them  from  all  feverish  restlessness  in  youth  and  age, 
and  make  the  memory  of  the  Confirmation  a  strength 
in  time  of  sin  and  sorrow. 

'""THE  shadow  of  the  Almighty's  cloud 

Calm  on  the  tents  of  Israel  lay, 
While  drooping  paused  twelve  banners  proud, 
Till  He  arise  and  lead  the  way.1 

Then  to  the  desert  breeze  unrolled 
Cheerly  the  waving  pennons  fly, 

Lion  or  eagle — each  bright  fold 
A  lodestar  to  a  warrior's  eye. 

So  should  Thy  champions,  ere  the  strife, 
By  holy  hands  o'ershadowed  kneel, 

So,  fearless  for  their  charmed  life, 
Bear,  to  the  end,  Thy  Spirit's  seal. 

Steady  and  pure  as  stars  that  beam 
In  middle  heaven,  all  mist  above, 

Seen  deepest  in  the  frozen  stream : — 
Such  is  their  high  courageous  love 

1  Cf.  Numbers  ix.  15-23. 


CONFIRMATION         279 

And  soft  as  pure,  and  warm  as  bright, 
They  brood  upon  life's  peaceful  hour, 

As  if  the  Dove  that  guides  their  flight 
Shook  from  her  plumes  a  downy  shower. 

Spirit  of  might  and  sweetness  too  ! 

Now  leading  on  the  wars  of  God, 
Now  to  green  isles  of  shade  and  dew 

Turning  the  waste  Thy  people  trod ; 1 

Draw,  Holy  Ghost,  Thy  seven-fold  veil 
Between  us  and  the  fires  of  youth  ; 

Breathe,  Holy  Ghost,  Thy  freshening  gale, 
Our  fevered  brow  in  age  to  soothe. 

And  oft  as  sin  and  sorrow  tire, 

The  hallowed  hour  do  thou  renew, 

When  beckoned  up  the  awful  choir 

By  pastoral  hands,  tow'rd  Thee  we  drew  ; 

When  trembling  at  the  sacred  rail 
We  hid  our  eyes  and  held  our  breath, 

Felt  Thee  how  strong,  our  hearts  how  frail, 
And  longed  to  own  Thee  to  the  death. 

For  ever  on  our  souls  be  traced 

That  blessing  dear,  that  dove-like  hand, 

A  sheltering  rock  in  Memory's  waste, 
O'ershadowing  all  the  weary  land.2 

1  Cf.  Psalm  cvii.  35.  a  Cf.  Isaiah  xxxii.  2. 


28o  MATRIMONY 

MATRIMONY 

1827.  Entitled  in  the  MS.  "  Communion  after 
Matrimony,"  which  explains  the  allusion  in  stanza  6. 

The  Fall  of  Man  has  caused  an  element  of  awe  and 
fear  in  our  joys  ;  even  wedded  joy  distrusts  itself  until 
it  has  received  God's  blessing,  and  even  then  its  strain 
is  tuned  and  measured  ;  far  different  from  the  poetry 
which  would  profane  love  by  thoughts  of  wild  passion 
are  the  strains  which  welcome  Christian  love  as  it  draws 
near  to  receive  Christ's  blessing,  feeling  sure  that  He 
will  give  an  eternal  value  to  each  prayer  and  offering 
that  it  makes. 

Cf.  Sexagesima  Sunday,  st.  6  (p.  65). 

'"THERE  is  an  awe  in  mortals'  joy ; 

A  deep  mysterious  fear 
Half  of  the  heart  will  still  employ, 

As  if  we  drew  too  near 
To  Eden's  portal  and  those  fires1 
That  bicker  2  round  in  wavy  spires, 
Forbidding,  to  our  frail  desires, 

What  cost  us  once  so  dear. 

We  cower  before  the  heart-searching  eye 

In  rapture  as  in  pain  ; 
Even  wedded  Love,  till  Thou  be  nigh, 

Dares  not  believe  her  gain : 
Then  in  the  air  she  fearless  springs, 
The  breath  of  Heaven  beneath  her  wings, 
And  leaves  her  woodnote  wild,  and  sings 

A  tuned  and  measured  strain.3 

1  Cf.  Genesis  iii.  24. 

2  "Bicker":  i.e.  flash.  Cf.  Milton's  "Paradise 
Lost,"  vi.   767:   "Bickering  flame  and   sparkle  dire." 

3  Is  there  a  reminiscence  here  of  Wordsworth's  poem, 
"O  Nightingale!  thou  surely  art,"  with  its  contrast 
between  the  fiery  heart  of  the  nightingale  and  the 
stock-dove's  homely  tale? 


MATRIMONY  281 

111  fare  the  lay,  though  soft  as  dew 

And  free  as  air  it  fall, 
That,  with  Thine  altar  full  in  view, 

Thy  votaries  would  enthrall 
To  a  foul  dream,  of  heathen  night, 
Lifting  her  torch  in  Love's  despite, 
And  scaring  with  base  wildfire  light 

The  sacred  nuptial  hall.1 

Far  other  strains,  far  other  fires, 
Our  marriage  offering  grace  :  2 

Welcome,  all  chaste  and  kind  desires, 
With  even  matron  pace 

Approaching  down  the  hallowed  aisle ! 

Where  should  ye  seek  Love's  perfect  smile, 

But  where  your  prayers  were  learned  erewhile, 
In  her  own  native  place  ? 

Where,  but  on  His  benignest  brow, 
Who  waits  to  bless  you  here  ? 

Living,  He  owned  no  nuptial  vow, 
No  bower  to  Fancy  dear : 

Love's  very  self — for  Him  no  need 

To  nurse,  on  earth,  the  heavenly  seed  : 

Yet  comfort  in  His  eye  we  read 
For  bridal  joy  and  fear.3 

'Tis  He  who  clasps  the  marriage  band, 

And  fits  the  spousal  ring, 
Then  leaves  ye  kneeling,  hand  in  hand, 

Out  of  His  stores  to  bring 

1  The  allusion  is  perhaps  to  Byron's  poetry.  Cf. 
Palm  Sunday  (p.  87,  note). 

2  "  Our  marriage  offering  *  :  "  our  bridal  pageant." — 
MSS.  ;  but  the  offering  brings  out  more  clearly  the  idea 
of  sacrifice  and  consecration  emphasised  in  stanza  7. 

3  Cf.  the  poem  for  the  Annunciation  (p.  232). 


282        VISITATION  AND 

His  Father's  dearest  blessing,  shed 
Of  old  on  Isaac's  nuptial  bed, 
Now  on  the  board  before  ye  spread 
Of  our  all-bounteous  King. 

All  blessings  of  the  breast  and  womb, 
Of  Heaven  and  earth  beneath, 

Of  converse  high  and  sacred  home, 
Are  yours,  in  life  and  death. 

Only  kneel  on,  nor  turn  away 

From  the  pure  shrine,  where  Christ  to-day 

Will  store  each  flower  ye  duteous  lay 
For  an  eternal  wreath. 

VISITATION  AND  COMMUNION 
OF  THE  SICK 

1827. 

The  spell  by  which  we  can  soothe  others  in  sorrow 
can  only  be  learnt  from  our  own  sufferings  ;  and  its  best 
language  is  taught  by  the  Church  in  her  services  for  the 
Visitation  of  the  Sick  with  its  salutations  of  peace,  and 
for  the  Holy  Communion  with  its  memorial  of  Jesus' 
death.  The  memories  of  such  hours  become  a  soothing 
power  ever  after  to  ourselves. 

The  poem  scarcely  needs  analysis.  Perhaps  more  than 
any  one  other  it  illustrates  '  that  soothing  tendency  in 
the  Prayer  Book '  of  which  the  Advertisement  speaks 
(p.  xxxviii.). 

(~\  YOUTH  and  Joy,  your  airy  tread 
^^^      Too  lightly  springs  by  Sorrow's  bed, 
Your  keen  eye-glances  are  too  bright, 
Too  restless  for  a  sick  man's  sight. 
Farewell :  for  one  short  life  we  part : 
I  rather  woo  the  soothing  art, 
Which  only  souls  in  sufferings  tried 
Bear  to  their  suffering  brethren's  side. 


COMMUNION  OF  SICK    283 

Where  may  we  learn  that  gentle  spell  ? 
Mother  of  Martyrs,  thou  canst  tell ! 1 
Thou,  who  didst  watch  thy  dying  Spouse 
With  pierced  hands  and  bleeding  brows, 
Whose  tears  from  age  to  age  are  shed 
O'er  sainted  sons  untimely  dead, 
If  e'er  we  charm  a  soul  in  pain, 
Thine  is  the  key-note  of  our  strain. 

How  sweet  with  thee  to  lift  the  latch, 
Where  Faith  has  kept  her  midnight  watch, 
Smiling  on  woe :  with  thee  to  kneel, 
Where  fixed,  as  if  one  prayer  could  heal, 
She  listens,  till  her  pale  eye  glow 
With  joy,  wild  health  can  never  know, 
And  each  calm  feature,  ere  we  read, 
Speaks,  silently,  thy  glorious  Creed. 

Such  have  I  seen  :  and  while  they  poured 
Their  hearts  in  every  contrite  word, 
How  have  I  rather  longed  to  kneel 
And  ask  of  them  sweet  pardon's  seal ! 
How  blessed  the  heavenly  music  brought 
By  thee  to  aid  my  faltering  thought ! 
"  Peace  !  "  ere  we  kneel,  and  when  we  cease 
To  pray,  the  farewell  word  is,  "  Peace !  " 

I  came  again  :  the  place  was  bright 

"  With  something  of  celestial  light  " — 2 

A  simple  altar  by  the  bed 

For  high  Communion  meetly  spread, 

1  "  Mother  of  Martyrs":  i.e.  the  Church,  as  typified 
by  the  Virgin.     Cf.  S.  Simon  and  S.  Jude,  st.  i  (p.  265). 

2  "With  something  of  celestial  light":  a  slightly 


284    COMMUNION  OF  SICK 

Chalice  and  plate  and  snowy  vest. — 
We  ate  and  drank :  then,  calmly  blest, 
All  mourners,  one  with  dying  breath, 
We  sate  and  talked  of  Jesus'  death. 

Once  more  I  came  :  the  silent  room 
Was  veiled  in  sadly-soothing  gloom, 
And  ready  for  her  last  abode 
The  pale  form  like  a  lily  shewed, 
By  virgin  fingers  duly  spread, 
And  prized  for  love  of  summer  fled. 
The  light  from  those  soft-smiling  eyes 
Had  fleeted  to  its  parent  skies. 

O  soothe  us,  haunt  us,  night  and  day, 
Ye  gentle  spirits  far  away, 
With  whom  we  shared  the  cup  of  grace, 
Then  parted  :   ye  to  Christ's  embrace, 
We  to  the  lonesome  world  again, 
Yet  mindful  of  the  unearthly  strain 
Practised  with  you  at  Eden's  door, 
To  be  sung  on,  where  angels  soar, 
With  blended  voices  evermore. 

inaccurate  quotation  from  Wordsworth's  poem,  "She 
was  a  phantom  of  delight." 

"  And  yet  a  spirit  still  and  bright 
With  something  of  an  angel  light." 

(Or,  as  in  ed.  1845  : 

"  With  something  of  Angelic  light.") 


BURIAL  OF  THE  DEAD    285 
BURIAL  OF  THE  DEAD 

And  when  the  Lord  saw  her,  He  had  compassion  on 
her,  and  said  unto  her,  Weep  not.  And  He  came  and 
touched  the  bier :  and  they  that  bare  him  stood  still. 
And  He  said,  Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee,  Arise. 

S.  Luke  vii.  13,  14. 

September  27,  1822.  Originally  written  for  the 
Sixteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 

Even  an  autumnal  scene  has  promise  of  spring  in  it, 
and  so  Christ  can  speak  a  word  of  hope  even  to  mourners 
as  they  carry  out  their  dead.  The  assurance,  "  I  am 
the  Resurrection  and  the  Life,"  which  meets  us  as  we 
enter  the  Churchyard,  leads  us  to  trust  our  dear  ones  to 
Him,  feeling  that  it  is  better  for  them  to  be  with  Him, 
and  sends  us  back  with  fresh  hope  to  the  tasks  of  life. 

Side  by  side  with  this  poem  should  be  read  the 
paraphrase  of  the  Burial  Service,  printed  in  Keble's 
"  Letters  of  Spiritual  Counsel,"  cliv. 

\A/HO  says  the  wan  autumnal  sun 
Beams  with  too  faint  a  smile 
To  light  up  nature's  face  again, 
And,  though  the  year  be  on  the  wane, 

With  thoughts  of  spring  the  heart  beguile  ? 

Waft  him,  thou  soft  September  breeze, 

And  gently  lay  him  down 
Within  some  circling  woodland  wall, 
Where  bright  leaves,  reddening  ere  they  fall, 

Wave  gaily  o'er  the  waters  brown.1 

And  let  some  graceful  arch  be  there 

With  wreathed  mullions  proud, 
With  burnished  ivy  for  its  screen, 
And  moss,  that  glows  as  fresh  and  green 
As  though  beneath  an  April  cloud. — 
1  Compare  Monday  in  Whitsun  week.     Miss  Yonge 
suggests  that  the  allusion  is  to  the  Church  at  Burthrop, 
near  Fairford. 


286   BURIAL  OF  THE  DEAD 


Who  says  the  widow's  heart  must  break, 

The  childless  mother  sink  ? — 
A  kinder,  truer  voice  I  hear, 
Which  even  beside  that  mournful  bier 

Whence  parent's  eyes  would  hopeless  shrink, 

Bids  weep  no  more — O  heart  bereft, 
How  strange,  to  thee,  that  sound  ! 

A  widow  o'er  her  only  son, 

Feeling  more  bitterly  alone 

For  friends  that  press  officious  round. 

Yet  is  the  voice  of  comfort  heard, 
For  Christ  hath  touched  the  bier — 

The  bearers  wait  with  wondering  eye, 

The  swelling  bosom  dares  not  sigh, 
But  all  is  still,  'twixt  hope  and  fear. 

Even  such  an  awful  soothing  calm 

We  sometimes  see  alight 
On  Christian  mourners,  while  they  wait 
In  silence,  by  some  churchyard  gate, 

Their  summons  to  the  holy  rite. 

And  such  the  tones  of  love  which  break 

The  stillness  of  that  hour, 
Quelling  th'  embittered  spirit's  strife — 
"  The  Resurrection  and  the  Life 

Am  I  :  believe,  and  die  no  more." — 

Unchanged  that  voice — and  though  not  yet 

The  dead  sit  up  and  speak, 
Answering  its  call,  we  gladlier  rest 
Our  darlings  on  earth's  quiet  breast, 

And  our  hearts  feel  they  must  not  break. 


CHURCHING  OF  WOMEN    287 

Far  better  they  should  sleep  awhile 1 

Within  the  Church's  shade, 
Nor  wake,  until  new  Heaven,  new  earth, 
Meet  for  their  new  immortal  birth, 

For  their  abiding-place  be  made, 

Than  wander  back  to  life,  and  lean 

On  our  frail  love  once  more. 
'Tis  sweet,  as  year  by  year  we  lose 
Friends  out  of  sight,  in  faith  to  muse 

How  grows  in  Paradise  our  store. 

Then  pass,  ye  mourners,  cheerly  on, 

Through  prayer  unto  the  tomb, 
Still,  as  ye  watch  life's  falling  leaf, 
Gathering  from  every  loss  and  grief 
Hope  of  new  spring  and  endless  home. 

Then  cheerly  to  your  work  again, 
With  hearts  new-braced  and  set 
To  run,  untired,  love's  blessed  race, 
As  meet  for  those  who  face  to  face 
Over  the  grave  their  Lord  have  met. 

CHURCHING  OF  WOMEN 

March  13,  1827. 
The  "  awe  in  mortal's  joy "  that  was  present  at 
matrimony  is  present  still  when  the  mother  comes  to 
offer  her  thanks  for  the  birth  of  a  child.  Hope,  joy, 
and  love  inspire  her  prayers,  but  the  gentlest  of  all 
angels  must  be  there  to  carry  the  prayer  upward ; 
Heaven's  fire  must  fall  to  kindle  the  incense :  the  Holy 
Spirit  must  mould  earth's  wishes  into  heavenly  aspira- 
tions :  the  thought  of  the  childhood  of  Jesus  must 
come  to  soothe  the  mother's  fluttering  heart. 

1  "  Far  better  " :  cf.  Phil.  i.  23.     To  be  with  Christ, 
which  is  far  better. 


288    CHURCHING  OF  WOMEN 

J  S  there,  in  bowers  of  endless  spring, 

One  known  from  all  the  seraph  band 
By  softer  voice,  by  smile  and  wing 
More  exquisitely  bland ! 
Here  let  him  speed  :  to-day  this  hallowed  air 
Is  fragrant  with  a  mother's  first  and  fondest  prayer. 

Only  let  Heaven  her  fire  impart, 

No  richer  incense  breathes  on  earth  : 
"  A  spouse  with  all  a  daughter's  heart,"  l 
Fresh  from  the  perilous  birth, 
To  the  great  Father  lifts  her  pale  glad  eye, 
Like  a  reviving  flower  when  storms  are  hushed 
on  high. 

O  what  a  treasure  of  sweet  thought 

Is  here  !   what  hope  and  joy  and  love  ! 
All  in  one  tender  bosom  brought, 
For  the  all-gracious  Dove 
To  brood  o'er  silently,  and  form  for  Heaven 
Each  passionate  wish  and  dream  to  dear  affection 
given. 

Her  fluttering  heart,  too  keenly  blest, 

Would  sicken,  but  she  leans  on  Thee, 
Sees  Thee  by  faith  on  Mary's  breast, 
And  breathes  serene  and  free. 
Slight  tremblings  only  of  her  veil  declare2 
Soft  answers  duly  whispered  to  each  soothing 
prayer. 

1  Perhaps  the  allusion  is  to  Andromache  (cf.  p.  89, 
note),  but  I  cannot  trace  the  quotation  to  its  source. 

2  When  the  woman  comes  to  this  office,  the  rubric 
(as  it  was  altered  at  the  last  review)  directs  that  she  be 
decently  apparelled,  i.e.  as  the  custom  and  order  was 
formerly,  with  a  white  covering  or  veil.  Wheatly, 
"  On  the  Common  Prayer,"  c.  xiii.  sect.  i.  3. — J.  K. 


COMMINATION  289 

We  are  too  weak,  when  Thou  dost  bless, 

To  bear  the  joy — help,  Virgin-born, 
By  Thine  own  mother's  first  caress, 
That  waked  Thy  natal  morn  ! 
Help,  by  the  unexpressive 1  smile,  that  made 
A  Heaven  on  earth  around  the  couch  where 
Thou  wast  laid ! 


COMMINATION 

March  9,  1827. 

On  Ash  Wednesday  the  Church  in  this  time  of  her 
decay  waits  before  celebrating  the  Eucharist  to  do 
penance  for  her  sins.  First  she  warns,  then  she  pro- 
nounces all  the  curses  of  the  law  on  sin,  which  come 
with  a  sterner  note  from  her  forgiving  voice — and  at 
last  (like  a  mother  baring  her  breast  to  win  her  child 
from  a  precipice)  she  ends  with  pleading  words. 
Perhaps  the  sinner  may  think,  his  sin  too  easily 
pardoned  :  if  so,  he  is  called  upon  to  pronounce  his  own 
condemnation,  and  then  to  rise  up  in  thankfulness,  not 
shaming  the  Cross  by  indulging  in  remorse. 

HpHE  prayers  are  o'er :   why  slumberest 
thou  so  long, 
Thou  voice  of  sacred  song  ? 
Why  swell'st  thou  not,  like  breeze  from 
mountain  cave, 
High  o'er  the  echoing  nave, 
The  white-robed  priest,  as  otherwhile,  to 
guide 
Up  to  the  altar's  northern  side  ? — 
A  mourner's  tale  of  shame  and  sad  decay 
Keeps  back  our  glorious  sacrifice  to-day, 

1  "Unexpressive."  Compare  S.  Peter's  day,  st.  12, 
note  (p.  247). 


290  COMMUTATION 

The    widowed    spouse    of    Christ ;    with 
ashes  crowned, 
Her  Christmas  robes  unbound,1 
She  lingers  in  the  porch  for  grief  and  fear, 

Keeping  her  penance  drear. — 
O  is  it  nought  to  you  ?  that  idly  gay, 
Or  coldly  proud,  ye  turn  away  ?  2 
But  if  her  warning  tears  in  vain  be  spent, 
Lo,  to  her  altered  eye  the  Law's  stern  fires  are 
lent. 

Each   awful    curse,   that   on   Mount   Ebal 
rang, 
Peals  with  a  direr  clang 
Out  of  that  silver  trump,  whose  tones  of  old 

Forgiveness  only  told. 
And  who  can   blame  the    mother's    fond 
affright,3 
Who  sporting  on  some  giddy  height 
Her  infant  sees,  and  springs  with  hurried  hand 
To  snatch  the  rover  from  the  dangerous  strand? 

But  surer  than  all  words  the  silent  spell 
(So  Grecian  legends  tell) 

1 "  Robes  " :  "  wreaths."— MSS. 

2  Cf.  Lamentations  i.  12. 

3  Alluding  to  a  beautiful  anecdote  in  the  "  Greek 
Anthology,"  torn.  i.  180,  ed.  Jacobs.  See  Rogers: 
"  Pleasures  of  Memory,"  p.  133  : 

11  While  on  the  cliff  with  calm  delight  she  kneels, 
And  the  blue  vales  a  thousand  joys  recall, 
See  to  the  last  verge  her  infant  steals : 
O  fly,  yet  stir  not,  speak  not,  lest  it  fall. 
Far  better  taught  she  lays  her  bosom  bare, 
And  the  fond  boy  springs  back  to  nestle  there.  *• — 

J.  K. 


COMMENTATION  291 

When  to  her  bird,  too  early  scaped  the  nest, 

She  bares  her  tender  breast. 
Smiling  he  turns  and  spreads  his  little  wing, 
There  to  glide  home,  there  safely  cling. 
So  yearns  our  mother  o'er  each  truant  son, 
So  softly  falls  the  lay  in  fear  and  wrath  begun.1 

Wayward  and  spoiled  she  knows  ye :  the 
keen  blast 
That  braced  her  youth  is  past : 
The  rod  of  discipline,  the  robe  of  shame — 2 

She  bears  them  in  your  name : 
Only  return  and  love.      But  ye  perchance 
Are  deeper  plunged  in  sorrow's  trance  : 
Your  God  forgives,  but  ye  no  comfort  3  take 
Till    ye    have    scourged    the  sins  that  in    your 
conscience  ache. 

O  heavy-laden  soul  !   kneel  down  and  hear 

Thy  penance  in  calm  fear  : 
With  thine  own  lips  to  sentence  all  thy  sin  ; 

Then,  by  the  judge  within 
Absolved,  in  thankful  sacrifice  to  part 
For  ever  with  thy  sullen  heart, 
Nor  on  remorseful  thoughts  to  brood,  and  stain 
The  glory  of  the  Cross,  forgiven  and  cheered  in 
vain.4 

1  Compare  the  last  few  paragraphs  of  the  Exhorta- 
tion in  the  Commination  Service. 

2  "The  rod  of  penance  and  the  robe  of  shame." — 
MSS. 

3  "  Comfort  "  :  "  pardon."— MSS. 

4  Cf.  Keble's  "  Letters  of  Spiritual  Counsel,"  Letter 
1 ,  "lam  certain  no  person  who  believes  in  the  Atone- 
ment ought  to  indulge  in  bitter  remorse,  and  therefore, 
by  God's  blessing,  I  do  not  mean  to  be  uncomfortable 
if  I  can  help  it,  even  in  the  thought  of  my  past  faults." 


292      FORMS  OF  PRAYER 

FORMS  OF  PRAYER  TO  BE  USED 
AT  SEA 

When  thou  passest  through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with 
thee.     Isaiah  xliii.  2. 

1827. 

As  the  sights  and  sounds  at  sea  recall  those  on  land, 
so  the  Church  Service  used  at  sea  with  its  prayers  and 
thanksgiving,  at  times  of  tempest  or  of  fight,  reminds 
the  sailor  of  the  worship  of  the  Church  at  home.  The 
Presence  of  the  Church  soothes  him  in  time  of  victory, 
and  also  when  he  commits  a  comrade  to  the  deep, 
reminding  him  that  God  can  guard  him  there  and 
bring  him  thence  on  the  Resurrection  Day,  as  surely  as 
if  he  lay  in  the  Churchyard  at  home. 

"T^HE  shower  of  moonlight  falls   as  still  and 
clear 
Upon  the  desert  main, 
As  where   sweet  flowers  some  pastoral  garden 
cheer 
With  fragrance  after  rain  : 
The  wild  winds  rustle  in  the  piping  shrouds, 

As  in  the  quivering  trees  : 
Like  summer  fields  beneath  the  shadowy  clouds, 
The    yielding    waters    darken    in    the 
breeze.1 

1  I  cannot  doubt  that  there  is  a  reminiscence  in  this 
stanza  of  Wordsworth's  poem,  "The  Brothers."  Com- 
pare especially  the  lines  : 

"  But  he  had  been  reared 
Among  the  mountains,  and  he  in  his  heart 
Was  half  a  shepherd  on  the  stormy  seas. 
Oft  in  the  piping  shrouds  had  Leonard  heard 
The  tones  of  waterfalls  and  inland  sounds 
Of  caves  and  trees." 


TO  BE  USED  AT  SEA   293 

Thou  too  art  here  with  thy  soft  inland  tones, 

Mother  of  our  new  birth  ; 
The  lonely  ocean  learns  thy  orisons, 

And  loves  thy  sacred  mirth : 
When  storms  are  high,  or  when  the  fires  of  war 

Come  lightening  round  our  course, 
Thou  breath'st  a  note  like  music  from  afar, 

Tempering  rude  hearts  with  calm  angelic 
force.1 

Far,  far  away,  the  homesick  seaman's  hoard,2 

Thy  fragrant  tokens  live, 
Like  flower- leaves  in  a  precious  volume  stored, 

To  solace  and  relieve 
Some  heart  too  weary  of  the  restless  world  ; 

Or  like  thy  sabbath  Cross,3 
That  o'er  the  brightening  billow  streams  unfurled, 

Whatever  gale  the  labouring  vessel  toss. 

O  kindly  soothing  in  high  victory's  hour, 

Or  when  a  comrade  dies, 
In  whose  sweet  presence  sorrow  dares  not  lower, 

Nor  expectation  rise 

1  The  service  in  the  Prayer  Book  is  divided  into 
three  parts :  Prayer  in  storms  at  sea  and  thanksgiving 
for  deliverance :  Prayer  before  a  fight  and  thanksgiving 
for  victory:  Prayer  at  the  burial  of  the  dead  at  sea. 
To  each  of  these  allusion  is  made  here. 

2  While  the  homesick  sailor  is  far  away  at  sea,  the 
service  becomes  treasured  by  him  because  of  its  associa- 
tions, just  as  dried  flowers  which  recall  some  past 
happiness  are  treasured  by  one  weary  of  life,  or  as  the 
cross  that  floats  on  the  ship  reminds  him  of  all  that  it 
symbolises. 

3  "  Thy  sabbath  Cross  " :  i.e.  the  special  flag,  bearing 
a  Cross  upon  it,  hoisted  on  men   of  war  during  the 


294      FORMS  OF  PRAYER 

Too  high  for  earth ;  what  mother's  heart  could 
spare 
To  the  cold  cheerless  deep 
Her  flower  and  hope  ?  but  thou  art  with  him 
there, 
Pledge  of  the  untired  arm  and  eye  that 
cannot  sleep :  * 

The  eye  that  watches  o'er  wild  ocean's  dead, 

Each  in  his  coral  cave, 
Fondly  as  if  the  green  turf  wrapt  his  head 

Fast  by  his  father's  grave. — 
One  moment,  and  the  seeds  of  life  shall  spring 

Out  of  the  waste  abyss, 
And  happy  warriors  triumph  with  their  King 

In    worlds   without  a    sea,2  unchanging 
orbs  of  bliss. 

religious  service  on  Sunday.  Compare  the  Morning 
Hymn  for  Emigrants,  st.  9.  ("  Miscellaneous  Poems," 
P-  98)  : 

"  Still  overhead  the  saving  sign 
Streams,  and  we  know  that  we  are  thine : 
What  course  soe'er  the  vessel  take, 
The  signal  of  our  King  we  make." 

1  The  Church  service  prevents  elation  in  the  hour  of 
victory  or  too  great  grief  on  the  loss  of  a  comrade. 
Compare  the  words  of  the  penultimate  prayer :  "  We 
bless  and  magnify  Thy  great  and  glorious  name  for  this 
happy  victory,  the  whole  glory  whereof  we  do  ascribe 
to  Thee,  who  art  the  only  Giver  of  victory  "  ;  and  the 
words  with  which  the  body  is  committed  to  the  sea: 
"  We  therefore  commit  his  body  to  the  deep,  to  be 
turned  into  corruption,  looking  for  the  Resurrection  of 
the  body  (when  the  sea  shall  give  up  her  dead)  and  the 
life  of  the  world  to  come,  through  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ." 

3  And  there  was  no  more  sea.     Revelation  xxi.  1. 


GUNPOWDER  TREASON     295 
GUNPOWDER  TREASON 

As  thou  hast  testified  of  Me  in  Jerusalem,  so  must 
thou  bear  witness  also  at  Rome.     Acts  xxiii.  n. 

November  II,  1827.  "Addressed  to  converts  from 
Popery."— MSS. 

The  Church,  which  mourned  her  Lord's  Crucifixion 
in  the  East,  has  now  to  bear  her  Cross  in  the  West. 
There  she  mourns  over  the  sight  of  misdirected  worship 
and  of  martyrs  slain  at  Rome.  She  mourns  also  for  the 
perplexities  of  those  who  are  separated  from  Rome,  and 
who  long  to  be  united  to  her.  But  they  may  not  go 
back  ;  for  she  offers  them,  where  they  are,  the  sure 
certainty  of  truth,  and  allows  the  imagination  to  dwell 
on  the  Presence  of  the  Dead  (without  the  lurid  mist  of 
Purgatory),  and  on  the  presence  of  the  Lord  on  the 
altar  and  in  the  heart.  They  may  not  then  be  tempted 
back,  but  they  should  speak  gently  of  Rome's  fall,  that 
she  may  be  restored. 

ENEATH  the  burning  eastern  sky 
The  Cross  was  raised  at  morn  : 
The  widowed  Church  to  weep  stood  by, 
The  world,  to  hate  and  scorn. 

Now,  journeying  westward,  evermore 
We  know  the  lonely  Spouse 

By  the  dear  mark  her  Saviour  bore 
Traced  on  her  patient  brows. 

At  Rome  she  wears  it,  as  of  old 

Upon  the  accursed  hill  :  * 
By  monarchs  clad  in  gems  and  gold, 

She  goes  a  mourner  still. 

She  mourns  that  tender  hearts  should  bend 

Before  a  meaner  shrine, 
And  upon  Saint  or  Angel  spend 
The  love  that  should  be  thine. 
1  "  The  accursed  hill " :  i.e.  Calvary. 


B 


296    GUNPOWDER  TREASON 

By  day  and  night  her  sorrows  fall 
Where  miscreant  hands  and  rude 

Have  stained  her  pure  ethereal  pall 
With  many  a  martyr's  blood. 

And  yearns  not  her  parental  heart, 

To  hear  their  secret  sighs, 
Upon  whose  doubting  way  apart 

Bewildering  shadows  rise  ? 

Who  to  her  side  in  peace  would  cling, 

But  fear  to  wake,  and  find 
What  they  had  deemed  her  genial  wing 

Was  Error's  soothing  blind. 1 

She  treasures  up  each  throbbing  prayer : 
Come,  trembler,  come  and  pour 

Into  her  bosom  all  thy  care, 
For  she  has  balm  in  store. 

Her  gentle  teaching  sweetly  blends 
With  the  clear  light  of  Truth 

The  aerial  gleam  that  Fancy  lends 
To  solemn  thoughts  in  youth. — 

If  thou  hast  loved,  in  hours  of  gloom, 
To  dream  the  dead  are  near, 

And  people  all  the  lonely  room 
With  guardian  spirits  dear, 

Dream  on  the  soothing  dream  at  will : 

The  lurid  mist  is  o'er, 
That  shewed  the  righteous  suffering  still 

Upon  the  eternal  shore. 

1  Cf.  p.  154,  note. 


GUNPOWDER  TREASON    297 

If  with  thy  heart  the  strains  accord, 

That  on  His  altar-throne 
Highest  exalt  thy  glorious  Lord, 

Yet  leave  Him  most  thine  own  ; 

O  come  to  our  Communion  Feast : 
There  present,  in  the  heart * 

As  in  the  hands,2  the  eternal  Priest 
Will  His  true  self  impart. — 

Thus,  should  thy  soul  misgiving  turn 
Back  to  the  enchanted  air, 

Solace  and  warning  thou  mayst  learn 
From  all  that  tempts  thee  there. 

And  O  !   by  all  the  pangs  and  fears 

Fraternal  spirits  know, 
When  for  an  elder's  shame  the  tears 

Of  wakeful  anguish  flow, 

Speak  gently  of  our  sister's  fall : 
Who  knows  but  gentle  love 

May  win  her  at  our  patient  call 
The  surer  way  to  prove  ? 

1  "There  present  in  the  heart."  A  copy  in  a  private 
letter  written  by  Miss  Keble  reads :  '•'  There  treasured 
in  the  heart." 

2  "  As  in  the  hands  ■  :  "  not  in  the  hands." — MSS. 
and  all  early  editions.  For  the  meaning  which  Mr 
Keble  attached  to  the  words  cf.  his  "Eucharistical 
Adoration,"  ed.  2.  p.  xiii.  note.  And  for  the  circum- 
stances of  the  change  which  was  made  in  1866  cf. 
Coleridge's  "Memoir,"  p.  163.  or  "J.  Keble:  a  Bio- 
graphy": by  W.  Lock,  p.  56,  and  Church  Quarterly 
Review,  July  1878,  pp.  539-544. 


298  KING  CHARLES 

KING  CHARLES  THE  MARTYR 

This  is  thankworthy,  if  a  man  for  conscience  toward 
God  endure  grief,  suffering  wrongfully,  i  S.  Peter  ii.  1 9. 
1827. 

Though  Apostles  and  Prophets  have  passed  away, 
we  still  have  martyrs,  alike  in  cottage  hearths  and  on 
the  throne  ;  such  was  our  royal  Saint  around  whose 
memory  have  grown  almost  sacred  associations,  and 
who  has  endeared  the  prayers  and  psalms  which  he 
used.  The  Church  which  he  loved  tended  him  in  his 
death,  and  thanks  God  still  for  his  memory. 

For  Mr  Keble's  feeling  towards  Charles  the  First 
compare  the  sermon  preached  on  this  day  in  1831 
("  Sermons  Academical  and  Occasional,"  No.  5.),  and 
also  "  Occasional  Papers  and  Reviews,"  p.  1 20. 

D RAISE    to    our   pardoning    God!     though 
silent  now 

The  thunders  of  the  deep  prophetic  sky, l 
Though  in  our  sight  no  powers  of  darkness  bow 

Before  the  Apostles'  glorious  company  ;  2 

The  Martyrs'  noble  army  still  is  ours, 

Far  in  the  North  our  fallen  days  have  seen 

How  in  her  woe  the  tenderest  spirit  towers 
For  Jesus'  sake  in  agony  serene. 

Praise  to  our  God  !   not  cottage  hearths  alone, 
And  shades  impervious  to  the  proud  world's 
glare, 

Such  witness  yield :  a  monarch  from  his  throne 
Springs  to  his  Cross  and  finds  his  glory  there. 

Yes  :   wheresoe'er  one  trace  of  thee  is  found, 
A 8  in  the  Sacred  Land,  the  shadows  fall  : 3 

1  Cf.  S.  Luke  ix.  54,  55  ;  Revelation  x.  3,4. 

2  Cf.  S.  Luke  x.  17,  18  ;  Acts  x.  9  ;  xiii.  8,  1 1. 

8  "  The  shadows  fall."  Perhaps,  "  shadows  of  bless- 
ing fall  upon  our  spirits,  like  the  shadow  of  S.  Peter 


THE  MARTYR  299 

With  beating  hearts  we  roam  the  haunted  ground, 
Lone  battle-field  or  crumbling  prison  hall. 

And  there  are  aching  solitary  breasts, 

Whose  widowed  walk  with  thought  of  thee  is 
cheered, 

Our  own,  our  royal  Saint :   thy  memory  rests 
On  many  a  prayer,  the  more  for  thee  endeared. 

True  son  of  our  dear  Mother,  early  taught 
With  her  to  worship  and  for  her  to  die, 

Nursed  in  her  aisles  to  more  than  kingly  thought, 
Oft  in  her  solemn  hours  we  dream  thee  nigh. 

For  thou  didst  love  to  trace  her  daily  lore, 
And  where  we  look  for  comfort  or  for  calm, 

Over  the  self-same  lines  to  bend,  and  pour 
Thy  heart  with  hers  in  some  victorious  psalm. 

And  well  did  she  thy  loyal  love  repay ; 

When  all  forsook,  her  Angels  still  were  nigh, 
Chained  and  bereft,  and  on  thy  funeral  way, 

Straight  to  the  Cross  she  turned  thy  dying  eye.1 
falling  upon  and  healing  the  sick"  (Acts  v.  15);  or 
perhaps,  "  there  is  a  restful  overshadowing  atmo- 
sphere, as  though  we  were  in  the  Holy  Land  "  (cf.  the 
Fourth  Sunday  in  Advent,  p.  1 7). 

1  His  Majesty  then  bade  him  (Mr  Herbert)  with- 
draw ;  for  he  was  about  an  hour  in  private  with  the 
Bishop  (Juxon) :  and  being  called  in,  the  Bishop  went 
to  prayer ;  and  reading  also  the  27th  chapter  of  the 
Gospel  of  S.  Matthew,  which  relateth  the  Passion  of 
our  Blessed  Saviour.  The  King,  after  the  Service  was 
done,  asked  the  Bishop,  if  he  had  made  choice  of  that 
chapter,  being  so  applicable  to  his  present  condition  ? 
The  Bishop  replied,  "  May  it  please  your  Gracious 
Majesty,  it  is  the  proper  lesson  for  the  day,  as  appears 
by  the  Kalender; "  which  the  King  was  much  affected 
with,  so  apdy  serving  as  a  seasonable  preparation  for  his 
death  that  day."    Herbert's  "  Memoirs,"  p.  1 3 1 .—  J.  K. 


3oo  THE  RESTORATION  OF 

And  yearly  now,  before  the  Martyrs'  King, 
For  thee  she  offers  her  maternal  tears, 

Calls  us,  like  thee,  to  His  dear  feet  to  cling, 
And  bury  in  His  wounds  our  earthly  fears. 

The  Angels  hear,  and  there  is  mirth  in  Heaven, 
Fit  prelude  of  the  joy,  when  spirits  won 

Like  thee  to  patient  Faith,  shall  rise  forgiven, 
And  at  their  Saviour's  knees  thy  bright  ex- 
ample own. 


THE  RESTORATION  OF  THE 
ROYAL  FAMILY 

And  Barzillai  said  unto  the  King,  How  long  have  I 
to  live,  that  I  should  go  up  with  the  King  unto  Jeru- 
salem ?     2  Samuel  xix.  34. 

1827. 

As  in  the  brightness  of  Easter  there  is  mingled  a 
reminiscence  of  the  Saviour's  death,  so  amid  the 
triumph  of  the  Restoration  of  the  Monarchy  there  was 
a  note  of  sadness  in  the  memory  of  the  martyred  king 
and  in  the  coincidence  of  the  death  of  Dr  Hammond. 
May  teachers,  true  to  his  teaching,  ever  remind  us  not 
to  confine  our  hopes  to  earthly  kingdoms. 

A  S  when  the  Paschal  week  is  o'er, 
Sleeps  in  the  silent  aisles  no  more 
The  breath  of  sacred  song, 
But  by  the  rising  Saviour's  light 
Awakened  soars  in  airy  flight, 
Or  deepening  rolls  along  :  1 

1  The  organ  is  silent  in  many  Churches  during 
Passion  week  :  and  in  some  it  is  the  custom  to  put  up 
evergreen  boughs  at  Easter  as  well  as  at  Christmas 
time.— J.  K. 


THE  ROYAL  FAMILY     301 

The  while  round  altar,  niche,  and  shrine, 
The  funeral  evergreens  entwine, 

And  a  dark  brilliance  cast, 
The  brighter  for  their  hues  of  gloom, 
Tokens  of  Him  who  through  the  tomb 

Into  high  glory  passed : 

Such  were  the  lights  and  such  the  strains, 
When  proudly  streamed  o'er  Ocean  plains 

Our  own  returning  Cross  ; 
For  with  that  triumph  seemed  to  float 
Far  on  the  breeze  one  dirge-like  note 

Of  orphanhood  and  loss. 

Father  and  King,1  O  where  art  thou  ? 
A  greener  wreath  adorns  thy  brow, 

And  clearer  rays  surround  ; 
O  for  one  hour  of  prayer  like  thine, 
To  plead  before  the  all-ruling  shrine 

For  Britain  lost  and  found ! 

And  he,2  whose  mild  persuasive  voice 
Taught  us  in  trials  to  rejoice, 

Most  like  a  faithful  dove, 
That  by  some  ruined  homestead  builds, 
And  pours  to  the  forsaken  fields 

His  wonted  lay  of  love  : 

1  "  Father  and  King":  i.e.  Charles  the  First. 

2  Read  Fell's  "  Life  of  Hammond,"  p.  283-296. 
Oxford,  1806. — J.  K.  Dr  Henry  Hammond,  who  had 
been  Charles  the  First's  chaplain  and  one  of  the  most 
active  Episcopalian  writers  during  the  Commonwealth, 
was  summoned  to  London  in  1660  at  the  time  of  the 
Restoration,  "  to  assist  in  the  composure  of  breaches  in 
the  Church  "  ;  but  he  was  seized  with  a  fatal  illness 
and  died  on  the  very  day  on  which  Parliament  decided 
on  the  Restoration  of  Charles  the  Second. 


3o2      THE  RESTORATION 

Why  comes  he  not  to  bear  his  part, 
To  lift  and  guide  the  exulting  heart  ? — 

A  hand  that  cannot  spare 
Lies  heavy  on  his  gentle  breast : 
We  wish  him  health  ;  he  sighs  for  rest, 

And  Heaven  accepts  the  prayer. 

Yes,  go  in  peace,  dear  placid  spright, 
111  spared  ;  but  would  we  store  aright 

Thy  serious  sweet  farewell, 
We  need  not  grudge  thee  to  the  skies, 
Sure  after  thee  in  time  to  rise, 

With  thee  for  ever  dwell. 

Till  then,  whene'er  with  duteous  hand, 
Year  after  year,  my  native  Land 

Her  royal  offering  brings, 
Upon  the  Altar  lays  the  Crown, 
And  spreads  her  robes  of  old  renown 

Before  the  King  of  Kings, 

Be  some  kind  spirit,  likest  thine, 
Ever  at  hand,  with  airs  divine 

The  wandering  heart  to  seize  ; 
Whispering,  "  How  long  hast  thou  to  live, 
That  thou  shouldst  Hope  or  Fancy  give 

To  flowers  or  crowns  like  these  ? " 


THE  ACCESSION         303 
ACCESSION 

As  I  was  with  Moses,  so  I  will  be  with  thee:  I  will 
not  fail  thee,  nor  forsake  thee.     Joshua  i.  5. 
1827. 

God's  Promise  to  Joshua,  "  I  will  not  fail  thee  nor 
forsake  thee,"  is  a  constant  source  of  comfort  in  times 
of  death.  The  glimpse  which  it  gives  of  one  unchang- 
ing love  and  might  gives  strength  to  the  monarch  as 
he  ascends  the  throne  :  to  the  Priest  as  he  takes  up 
his  pastoral  task :  and  to  all  it  tells  of  the  lesson  of 
content. 

HTHE  voice  that  from  the  glory  came 

To  tell  how  Moses  died  unseen, 
And  waken  Joshua's  spear  of  flame 

To  victory  on  the  mountains  green, 
Its  trumpet  tones  are  sounding  still, 

When  Kings  or  Parents  pass  away, 
They  greet  us  with  a  cheering  thrill 

Of  power  and  comfort  in  decay. 

Behind  the  soft  bright  summer  cloud 

That  makes  such  haste  to  melt  and  die, 
Our  wistful  gaze  is  oft  allowed 

A  glimpse  of  the  unchanging  sky  : 
Let  storm  and  darkness  do  their  worst ; 

For  the  lost  dream  the  heart  may  ache, 
The  heart  may  ache,  but  may  not  burst : 

Heaven  will  not  leave  thee  nor  forsake. 

One  rock  amid  the  weltering  floods, 

One  torch  in  a  tempestuous  night, 
One  changeless  pine  in  fading  woods : — 

Such  is  the  thought  of  Love  and  Might, 
True  Might  and  ever-present  Love, 

When  Death  is  busy  near  the  throne, 
And  Sorrow  her  keen  sting  would  prove 

On  Monarchs  orphaned  and  alone. 


304  ORDINATION 

In  that  lorn  hour  and  desolate, 

Who  could  endure  a  crown  ?  but  He 
Who  singly  bore  the  world's  sad  weight, 

Is  near,  to  whisper,  "  Lean  on  Me : 
Thy  days  of  toil,  thy  nights  of  care, 

Sad  lonely  dreams  in  crowded  hall, 
Darkness  within,  while  pageants  glare 

Around — the  Cross  supports  them  all." 

O  promise  of  undying  Love ! 

While  monarchs  seek  thee  for  repose, 
Far  in  the  nameless  mountain  cove 

Each  pastoral  heart  thy  bounty  knows. 
Ye,  who  in  place  of  shepherds  true 

Come  trembling  to  their  awful  trust, 
Lo  here  the  fountain  to  imbue 

With  strength  and  hope  your  feeble  dust. 

Not  upon  Kings  or  Priests  alone 

The  power  of  that  dear  word  is  spent ; 
It  chants  to  all  in  softest  tone 

The  lowly  lesson  of  Content : 
Heaven's  light  is  poured  on  high  and  low  ; 

To  high  and  low  Heaven's  Angel  spake  ; 
"  Resign  thee  to  thy  weal  or  woe, 

I  ne'er  will  leave  thee  nor  forsake." 

ORDINATION 

After  this,  the  congregation  shall  be  desired,  secretly 
in  their  prayers,  to  make  their  humble  supplications  to 
God  for  all  these  things :  for  the  which  prayers  there 
shall  be  silence  kept  for  a  space. 

After  which  shall  be  sung  or  said  by  the  Bishop  (the 
persons  to  be  ordained  Priests  all  kneeling),  "  Veni, 
Creator  Spiritus."  (Rubric  in  the  Office  for  Ordering 
of  Priests.) 


ORDINATION  305 

March  28.  1828. 
The  thought  of  the  poem  is  so  simple  that  no  analysis 
seems  needed. 

'  HpWAS  silence  in  Thy  temple,  Lord, 

A       When  slowly  through  the  hallowed  air 
The  spreading  cloud  of  incense  soared, 

Charged  with  the  breath  of  Israel's  prayer.1 

'Twas  silence  round  Thy  throne  on  high, 
When  the  last  wondrous  seal  unclosed,2 

And  in  the  portals  of  the  sky 

Thine  armies  awfully  reposed. 

And  this  deep  pause,  that  o'er  us  now 
Is  hovering — comes  it  not  of  Thee  ? 

Is  it  not  like  a  mother's  vow, 

When  with  her  darling  on  her  knee, 

She  weighs  and  numbers  o'er  and  o'er 

Love's  treasure  hid  in  her  fond  breast, 

To  cull  from  that  exhaustless  store 

The  dearest  blessing  and  the  best  ? 

And  where  shall  mother's  bosom  find, 
With  all  its  deep  love-learned  skill, 

A  prayer  so  sweetly  to  her  mind, 

As,  in  this  sacred  hour  and  still, 

Is  wafted  from  the  white-robed  choir, 
Ere  yet  the  pure  high-breathed  lay, 

"  Come,  Holy  Ghost,  our  souls  inspire," 
Rise  floating  on  its  dove-like  way  ? 

1  Cf.  1  Kings  viii.  10  ff. 

2  When  he  had  opened  the  seventh  seal,  there  was 
silence  in  heaven  about  the  space  of  half  an  hour. 
Revelation  viii.  1. 


306  ORDINATION 

And  when  it  comes,  so  deep  and  clear 
The  strain,  so  soft  the  melting  fall, 

It  seems  not  to  the  entranced  ear 

Less  than  Thine  own  heart-cheering  call, 

Spirit  of  Christ — Thine  earnest  given 

That  these  our  prayers  are  heard,  and  they 

Who  grasp  this  hour  the  sword  of  Heaven, 
Shall  feel  Thee  on  their  weary  way. 

Oft  as  at  morn  or  soothing  eve 

Over  the  Holy  Fount  they  lean, 

Their  fading  garland  freshly  weave, 

Or  fan  them  with  Thine  airs  serene, 

Spirit  of  Light  and  Truth  !   to  Thee 
We  trust  them  in  that  musing  hour, 

Till  they,  with  open  heart  and  free, 

Teach  all  Thy  word  in  all  its  power. 

When  foemen  watch  their  tents  by  night, 

And  mists  hang  wide  o'er  moor  and  fell, 

Spirit  of  Counsel  and  of  Might, 

Their  pastoral  warfare  guide  Thou  well. 

And  O  !   when  worn  and  tired  they  sigh 
With  that  more  fearful  war  within, 

When  Passion's  storms  are  loud  and  high, 
And  brooding  o'er  remembered  sin 

The  heart  dies  down — O  mightiest  then, 
Come  ever  true,  come  ever  near, 

And  wake  their  slumbering  love  again, 
Spirit  of  God's  most  holy  Fear  ! 


INDEX 


And  is  there  in  God's  world  so  drear  a  place 

And  wilt  Thou  hear  the  fevered  heart 

Angel  of  wrath  !  why  linger  in  mid  air     . 

As  rays  around  the  source  of  light     . 

As  when  the  Paschal  week  is  o'er     . 

At  length  the  worst  is  o'er,  and  Thou  art  laid 

Awake — again  the  Gospel-trump  is  blown 


Beneath  the  burning  eastern  sky 
Bless'd  are  the  pure  in  heart 

Creator,  Saviour,  strengthening  Guide 

Dear  is  the  morning  gale  of  spring    . 


Father  to  me  Thou  art,  and  Mother  dear 
Fill  high  the  bowl,  and  spice  it  well,  and 
First  Father  of  the  holy  seed    . 
Foe  of  mankind  !  too  bold  thy  race  . 

Go  not  away,  thou  weary  soul  . 

Go  up  and  watch  the  new-born  rill  . 

Hold  up  thy  mirror  to  the  sun 
Hues  of  the  rich  unfolding  morn 

I  marked  a  rainbow  in  the  north 

In  troublous  days  of  anguish  and  rebuke 

Is  it  not  strange,  the  darkest  hour     . 

Is  there,  in  bowers  of  endless  spring  . 

Is  this  a  time  to  plant  and  build 

It  is  so ! — ope  thine  eyes  and  see 

It  was  not  then  a  poet's  dream 


pour 


3°7 


3o8 


INDEX 


Lessons  sweet  of  spring  returning 

"  Lord,  and  what  shall  this  man  do  ?  " 

Lord,  in  Thy  field  I  work  all  day 

My  Saviour,  can  it  ever  be  . 

Not  till  the  freezing  blast  is  still 

Now  is  there  solemn  pause  in  earth  and  Heaven 

O  day  of  days  1  shall  hearts  set  free  . 

O  for  a  sculptor's  hand      .... 

O  God  of  Mercy,  God  of  Might 

O  hateful  spell  of  sin  !  when  friends  are  nigh 

O  holy  mountain  of  my  God 

O  Lord  my  God,  do  Thou  Thy  holy  will 

O  Youth  and  Joy,  your  airy  tread 

Of  the  bright  things  in  earth  and  air 

Oh  !  say  not,  dream  not,  heavenly  notes    . 

Oh  !  Thou  who  deign'st  to  sympathise 

Oh !  who  shall  dare  in  this  frail  scene 

On  Sinai's  top,  in  prayer  and  trance 

Praise  to  our  pardoning  God !   though  silent  now 
Prophet  of  God,  arise  and  take 

Red  o'er  the  forest  peers  the  setting 

Say,  ye  celestial  guards,  who  wait 

See  Lucifer  like  lightning  fall  . 

Seest  thou  how  tearful  and  alone 

Since  all  that  is  not  Heaven  must  fade 

Sit  down  and  take  thy  fill  of  joy 

Soft  cloud,  that  while  the  breeze  of  May 

Star  of  the  East,  how  sweet  art  Thou 

Stately  thy  walls,  and  holy  are  the  prayers 

Sweet  Dove  !  the  softest,  steadiest  plume 

Sweet  nurslings  of  the  vernal  skies    . 

Ten  cleansed,  and  only  one  remain  !  . 
Tis  gone,  that  bright  and  orbed  blaze 
'Tis  true,  of  old  the  unchanging  sun  . 
The  bright-haired  morn  is  glowing  . 


sun 


PAGE 

42 

26 

I38 

122 

I  I 

I2S 


INDEX 


3°9 


The  clouds  that  wrap  the  setting  sun 

The  earth  that  in  her  genial  breast   . 

The  heart  of  childhood  is  all  mirth    . 

The  historic  Muse,  from  age  to  age  . 

The  live-long  night  we've  toiled  in  vain 

The  midday  sun,  with  fiercest  glare  . 

The  morning  mist  is  cleared  away     . 

The  prayers  are  o'er :  why  slumberest  thou  so  long 

The  shadow  of  the  Almighty's  cloud 

The  shower  of  moonlight  falls  as  still  and  clear 

The  Son  of  God  in  doing  good 

The  voice  that  from  the  glory  came  . 

The  world's  a  room  of  sickness,  where  each  heart 

The  year  begins  with  Thee 

There  are,  who  darkling  and  alone    . 

There  is  an  awe  in  mortals'  joy 

There  is  a  Book,  who  runs  may  read 

They  know  the  Almighty's  power    . 

Thou  first-born  of  the  year's  delight  . 

Thou  thrice  denied,  yet  thrice  beloved 

Twas  silence  in  Thy  temple,  Lord    . 

Twice  in  her  season  of  decay     . 

Two  clouds  before  the  summer  gale  . 

Wake,  arm  divine  !  awake 

We  were  not  by  when  Jesus  came 

Well  may  I  guess  and  feel 

What  liberty  so  glad  and  gay 

What  sudden  blaze  of  song 

What  went  ye  out  to  see  . 

When  bitter  thoughts,  of  conscience  born  . 

When  brothers  part  for  manhood's  race 

When  God  of  old  came  down  from  Heaven 

When  Nature  tries  her  finest  touch    . 

When  Persecution's  torrent  blaze 

Where  is  it  mothers  learn  their  love? 

Where  is  the  land  with  milk  and  honey  flowing 

Where  is  Thy  favoured  haunt,  eternal  Voice 

Who  is  God's  chosen  priest? 

Who  says  the  wan  autumnal  sun 

Why  blow'st  thou  not,  thou  wintry  wind  . 

Why  doth  my  Saviour  weep 


3io  INDEX 


PAGE 


Why  should  we  faint  and  fear  to  live  alone         .  20S 

Will  God  indeed  with  fragments  bear         .         .  213 

Wish  not,  dear  friends,  my  pain  away        .         .  186 

Ye  hermits  blest,  ye  holy  maids         .         .         .  255 

Ye  stars  that  round  the  Sun  of  righteousness       .  258 

Ye  whose  hearts  are  beating  high      ...  87 

Yes — deep  within,  and  deeper  yet      ...  70 


PRINTED    BY 

TURXBULL   AND   SPEARS, 

EDINBURGH 


